


Dragon's Gold

by Batsutousai



Series: FMA Ship Week Fics [4]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Background Character Death, Chimera Roy Mustang, Demisexual Edward Elric, Dragon Maes Hughes, Dragon Riza Hawkeye, Dragon Roy Mustang, Dragon Zolf J. Kimblee, Edward Elric Swears, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Inhuman Experimentation, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Prince Edward Elric, RoyEd Week, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-27 09:01:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 31,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7611856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batsutousai/pseuds/Batsutousai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prince Edward is a pain in his parents' behinds, and they eventually resort to locking him up in a tower with a dragon in hopes that some enforced solitude will help him sort out his priorities. Unsurprisingly, this doesn't quite work out the way they'd hoped.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dragon's Gold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yodepalma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yodepalma/gifts).



> For [RoyEd Week on tumblr](http://royedweek.tumblr.com/post/144671286716/prompt-list). Today's prompts included such gems as _"It's not what you think"_ , _"I can handle this"_ , and _Altered states_.
> 
> Yodepalma was trying to get me to write dragon!Roy and I remembered a post on tumblr about wouldn't it be cool if a princess _wanted_ to stay with the dragon guarding their tower, and this ~~terrible~~ idea was born.  
>  I'm not even a little bit sorry. (Except maybe about the length. HOW DID THIS THING END UP SO LONG?! DAMMIT, YODEPALMA!!)
> 
> Okay, so, I say demi!Ed, because demi is how I identify, but he can just as easily be read as gray-ace, I think, so if that's how you want to read him, by all means. I mean, I never set out to write him as demi, tbh, but then he had a confused-about-arousal moment, and I was like, 'Oh. You're demi. Cool.' And we just went from there. (My characters never tell me what they're doing until it's too late for me to do anything about it; I'm used to this foolery. XD)
> 
> The PoV is a little...odd, at the beginning, because I was sort of leaning toward 3rd person omniscient, but then I just ended up stuck in Ed's head, and I can't be arsed to go out and smooth over the beginning, especially since this ended up being a bit of a last-minute fic finish. ^^;
> 
> Uhm... So, I started bolding everything said in Amestrisan before it occurred to me that most of the conversation'll be in that, and since I didn't have time for any edits before posting, I didn't go through and find a way to change that. Sorry if it's distracting. Might fix it eventually.  
> Also, it might be a little rushed, the latter half or so, but that's because I wrote most of it Tuesday night/Wednesday, while watching my deadline approaching. Whoops?
> 
>  
> 
> You can also read this at [Fanfiction.Net](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12073918/1/) or [LiveJournal](http://batsutousai.livejournal.com/362963.html).

Crown Prince Edward Hohenheim of Xerxes was, to put it... Well, there's no way to put it nicely, so, accurately: He was a pain in his royal parents' arses. 

A fact of which he was perfectly aware, but didn't really care about. In fact, he went to great lengths to be as difficult as possible, because he absolutely, positively, _did not_ want to rule Xerxes. Ever. (Much better that his younger brother, Alphonse, take over from their father, given his temperament was better suited to ruling.) 

Edward _also_ didn't want to be be trapped married to some delicate little princess who couldn't hold her own in a brawl. He'd much rather get hitched with his his childhood friend, Winry, but she wasn't of noble blood, and there were _expectations_ that Edward would make a match that was for the good of their country, especially as the eldest prince. Preferably, he'd marry some foreign princess, thereby sealing a treaty of some sort with her native country. If not a foreign princess, there were plenty of noble families in Xerxes looking to marry into the royal family. 

At twelve, Edward started a habit of running away from home every other month or so. He never managed to actually leave the royal city once in the five years he'd been at it, which was a small comfort to his parents, given they had to constantly call out the guard to hunt down their eldest son, but he always made a valiant effort. 

At sixteen, when nobles started suggesting a match to Edward, his counter-offer was always that he'd marry the girl if she managed to beat him in a duel, her choice of weapon. This, of course, put off most everyone, but a few were willing to give it a shot, having allowed their daughter to learn swordcraft, most often. But Edward always won, and he almost never had to put any effort into it. 

The first time he tried that line on a foreign dignitary offering their princess' hand, barely a week after his eighteenth birthday, he was ordered to his room for the rest of the night. He promptly escaped out his tower bedroom's window, making it all the way to the outer city gates before a guard happened to recognise him and he was dragged back to the palace, snarling insults the entire way. His absence hadn't even been noticed in the palace, yet, and his father, King Van, finally lost his temper. 

"Until you understand your duties to your people, you will be locked in a tower in the most inhospitable location I can find inside our borders, and guarded by the most fearsome beast I can think of," he'd informed Edward, his eyes flashing. 

Edward had just smiled and replied, "Sounds like an interesting challenge." 

Edward was promptly locked in the dungeon for two days, because Van wasn't going to chance him running away again while he saw to the tower – Edward hadn't intended to, far more interested in seeing what horrors his father thought might dissuade him. Queen Trisha and Prince Alphonse both came down to see him on their own while the king was away, both obviously disapproving, but also clearly regretting that Van had resorted to such lengths to deal with Edward. 

"Why must you always be so difficult, Edward?" his mother asked tiredly, the deep lines etched into her face especially obvious in the flickering torch light. "Princess May sounds like a lovely girl–"

"So make Al marry her," Edward cut in before his mother could start extolling the foreign girl's virtues, like she'd done for more than a few of the noble's daughters. 

Trisha had left shortly after that, having long learnt that her eldest had received the lion's share of both her and Van's stubbornness, which made arguing with him far more likely to result in a headache on her part, than him actually seeing reason. 

Edward did feel a little bad, honestly, but he had no interest in letting himself be chained to the throne, having to listen to the petty complaints of nobles and commoners alike, all of whom seemed to believe he had nothing better to do with his days than attend to them. He wanted to see the world, explore all those things he'd only read of in books, like oceans and mountains and snow. He wanted to be just another face in the crowd, to actually take part in a fair fight, for once, rather than always facing an opponent who purposefully lost. 

He wanted to be known for _what he could do_ , rather than _who he was_. And that was ever the one thing he would never manage while he was heir to the Xerxesian throne. 

When Alphonse came, he was wearing a helpless sort of smile and opened with, "Could you _be_ any more difficult, Brother?" 

"Probably!" Edward returned cheerfully. 

Alphonse sighed and rubbed at his face, then pushed his hand through the bars of Edward's cell for Edward to take, and so he did, both of them gripping tightly to the other. "Write me?" Alphonse requested quietly. 

Edward raised an eyebrow at him. "Pretty sure Father won't be allowing post in this most terrifying and inhospitable tower he's designing." 

Alphonse rolled his eyes, and Edward grinned at him. " _Brother_ ," Alphonse said in that tone he always used when Edward was being purposefully dense. "Once you escape." Because Alphonse didn't, for one moment, believe anything would stop his brother for long. (The only reason Edward had yet to make it out of the city, he was sure, was because there were just _so many_ people to dodge, and he simply wasn't naturally sneaky enough to get past them all. But, without scores of guards watching for their prince's escape attempts, Alphonse had no doubt his brother would finally manage what he'd been attempting for so long.) 

Edward squeezed his brother's hand as tightly as he could, and Alphonse squeezed back. "I will," he promised quietly. Honestly. Because he was going to miss his brother – his parents and the few friends he had among the guard and castle staff – but not so much that he would let that hold him back. "Give Win a kiss on the cheek for me?" 

Alphonse rolled his eyes again. "Yeah, okay. And I'll pass on your farewells to Jean and Heymans and them." 

"Thanks." 

As Alphonse started to withdraw his hand to leave, though, Ed tightened his grip and tugged on his brother's hand until he looked back at him. "Al, listen to me. You're going to make an _amazing_ king, okay? The absolute best ever. I _know_ it." 

Tears sprung to Alphonse's eyes and he roughly rubbed at them. "I know," he whispered, because Edward had told him so many times over the years. "I love you, you idiot brother." 

Edward flashed him a wide grin as he let Alphonse's hand go, and he held it until he was certain his brother was gone. Only then did he let it fall, turning away from the guard standing watch down the hall so the man wouldn't see if Edward didn't manage to keep in the tears threatening to fall. 

-0-

King Van's genius idea to trap his son, was a sandstone tower built overnight with alchemy, in the absolute hottest part of the Great Xerxes Desert. The only water for miles was an oasis in the shadow of the tower, around which was a wall at least four times as high as Van was tall. Arrays carved into the tower's walls kept it cool enough inside for someone born in the desert to live comfortably, and there were nearly as many amenities as Edward would have had in the palace, including a kitchen stocked with food – and a merchant willing to make a trip out to the tower once a week to drop off fresh supplies – an underground room with practice dummies and an assortment of weapons, a reasonably sized alchemy/chemistry lab, and a library (which only held books relating to the duties of royalty and the most basic alchemy books Van could find). 

And then, because no walls could hold an alchemist – and Van wouldn't put it past his stubborn son to chance heatstroke by filling something with water, then rushing off into the desert – he traded some alchemy secrets with one of the members of Amestris' military who he had a long-standing agreement with for one of their prized dragons, which he ordered to keep Edward from leaving the structure, lest he be given reason to test exactly how tough his scaled hide was. 

Edward was collected from the dungeon almost as soon as night fell, shackled and blindfolded, then hustled up into a waiting carriage without any but the bare minimum of people aware of the transfer, and no chance for a last goodbye shared between Edward and his mother or brother. (Which a part of him had expected; his father needed him to _want_ to come home.) 

The journey was a long one, and Edward couldn't keep from sleeping through part of it, despite his uncomfortable position, because it was boring not being able to see anything, and he hadn't got much sleep while stuck in the palace dungeons. 

They arrived while it was dark out, and it wouldn't be until after the carriage, Van, and the guards had left, and the moon rose instead of the sun, that Edward would realise that he'd been in the carriage for a whole day. 

At that moment, however, as Van freed Edward's hands from the board that had been holding them apart and took off the blindfold, he didn't know any of that, only frowned at his father and made a show of rubbing at his wrists. 

Van was unmoved. (Outwardly, at least; it had been necessary to keep Edward from either removing the blindfold, or alchemising his way out of the carriage, he had to remind himself.) "You will remain here," he said flatly, "in solitude, until you are ready to perform your duties as crown prince, _without_ this childish play at rebellion." 

" _Childish_?!" Ed repeated, half disbelieving, half enraged; there was nothing _childish_ about his refusal to sit in a throne he was unsuited for! 

Van's expression darkened. "Yes, Edward, _childish_ ," he returned. Before Edward could let loose with one of his familiar tirades, Van continued, "I will visit once a month, and a merchant will bring supplies every other week. If I discover you've attempted to join along with either of those caravans, I will have you whipped." 

"And what purpose has _that_ ever served?" Edward muttered, because Van had resorted to that punishment a couple of times, before Trisha had put her foot down. 

Van, probably wisely, ignored him, instead continuing, "Punishment for any escape attempts beyond that, will be up to your...housemate." 

Edward raised both eyebrows at that and made a show of looking around at the open layout of the ground floor room, which was empty, save the two of them. 

Van's smile was edged in victory as he said, "Let me introduce you," then turned and led Edward out the only door in the tower walls, which let out into the walled-in oasis. 

Across the pool from the tower laid what looked, at first, to be a large, misshapen rock. But then the 'rock' shifted, and Edward couldn't bite back a startled curse as the dragon got to their feet and stretched, wings flaring wide behind them. They were...large. Not as massive as some of the ancient stories Edward had been told of dragons as a child, but their head was still almost three-fourths as long as Edward was tall, and they were easily twice as tall as Van, who had about a head on Edward, and fuck-knew how long. 

In the pale light of the alchemical lanterns embedded high in the walls, the dragon looked like they were yellow or a light brown. Rather than the more common horns, this dragon had a sort of wing-like plate sweeping back to either side of their head. Their wings, too, were unfamiliar, as the phalanges the membrane stretched between, grew straight out from their back, instead of coming down from the end of the radius, which resulted in the wings continuing down their sides all the way to their tail. 

Later, once the sun was up, Edward would discover the dragon was actually bronze, with stains of green on the outer edges of the scales on their underside, and stains of red on the outer edges of their scales. The wing membrane closer to their body was a deep green, while the outer edges of the membrane were stained a brilliant, fiery red, which made them look like their wings were on fire. Nothing at all like the black dragons with bone-white heads that those childhood stories had always told of. 

"Flame," Van called, and the dragon turned intelligent black eyes toward him. Van motioned toward Edward standing at his side and said in Amestrisan, **"This is your charge. You are to keep him within these walls, as agreed. Clear?"**

The dragon – Flame – let out a huff of smoke and nodded, then turned around a couple of times in place and curled up to go back to sleep. It was so similar to the actions of the cats that Alphonse kept sneaking past Trisha and keeping in his room, Edward had to bite back a slightly disbelieving laugh. 

Without any warning, Edward was pulled into Van's arms for quick, hard hug, then the king hurriedly turned away, his voice rough as he said over his shoulder, "I hope to find a grown man here in a month." 

And then he clapped, made a doorway in the wall as he reached it, stepped through, and closed it behind him without looking back at Edward; the last thing he wanted was for his son to see exactly how much it hurt to leave him alone with only the threat of a dragon eating him to keep him from running away and vanishing into the desert forever. 

Edward, for his part, snarled a couple choice curses after his father, then turned and stalked back into the tower to explore it. 

He found the kitchen first, and immediately went after food, only to freeze in disbelieving horror when he realised he would have to make his own food. 

Was he _certain_ he couldn't marry a delicate little princess and play at being king? 

He shook himself, muttering, "Pull it together, Ed; you'd have to figure out this cooking thing eventually, anyway. Better when there's no one to laugh at your fuck-ups." Which didn't really inspire him or anything, but it did make him step forward and start taking inventory. 

There was bread, a few wheels of cheese, and some chilled meat and vegetables in a large cold-box, so he put together a sandwich, since that was easy, then ate it while he explored the rest of the building. 

The lab and practise room were both pretty cool, and the bedroom at the top of the tower was bound to get hot, even with the cooling arrays, but he'd make do. The library was clearly his father's idea of a joke, however, and Edward sealed it off in a fit of pique. 

Tower explored, he returned to the oasis, because he wanted to take quick bath after being stuck in the dungeon for two days, and apparently that carriage ride had been a lot longer than he'd thought, judging by the moon's appearance in the sky while he'd been exploring. 

He stripped to his underpants quickly, and was just about to step into the pool, when he recalled the lack of any piping for running water in the tower, which very likely meant this was his only source. And the last thing he wanted to do with his only water source, was foul it up. So, sighing a bit, he clapped his hands, then crouched to press his palms against the ground. 

Alchemic light sparked along the sparse grass around the edge of the pool, then the ground began shifting, pulling a portion of the water away from the main pool, just enough for Edward to comfortably bathe in. He didn't stop the alchemy until there was three feet between the two pools, then he stood and stepped into the water, pleased to find it was still warm from the heat of the day. (He'd never been fond of cold baths.) 

He hadn't been in the water long, when the dragon let out a loud snort, and Edward whirled to shoot his keeper a glare. "Do–" he started, before frowning a bit as he remembered his father had used Amestrisan to speak to the dragon, before. It wasn't his best language, but he still grimaced and said as clearly as he could, **"Do you _mind_?"**

The dragon snorted again, letting out another puff of smoke, then turned their head to face the wall and rested it on their foreclaws. 

Edward shook his head, decided he didn't really care about the oddities of dragons, and quickly finished rinsing dirt off his skin and combing it out of his hair as much as he could, then stepped out of the water and stared down at his clothing laying a heap in the sand. He should probably clean them, since they desperately needed it, but there was plenty of clothing in the bedroom. So Edward allowed himself to kick the pile of clothing toward the part of the wall his father had left through, then stalked back into the tower to find something to dry off with, get dressed in clean clothing, and see about testing out those practise dummies. 

-0-

Edward had very little to do with the dragon the first two weeks of his exile, as there was plenty to busy himself with, between attempting to recreate dishes he remembered liking from court – which wasn't going well – practising with whichever weapon seemed more interesting in that moment, and mucking about in the lab. He did _see_ the dragon fairly regularly, as there wasn't anywhere to relieve himself inside the tower, and he did refill the pitcher of water he kept in the cold-box every morning, before the sun could overheat the pool. 

The dragon was usually in the same spot they'd slept in that first night, once the sun went down, but they would regularly be on top of the tower when Edward went outside during the day, their scales gleaming like a pile of well-polished coins or jewellery in the bright light. 

Still, the day before the merchant would arrive, after cooking failure number... Edward was purposefully _not_ keeping track, actually. So after one failure or another, which had ended up with his food attempt on fire, he stormed outside and tossed the miniature fire and the pot it had been in at the pile of clothing that was still scattered by the wall. The trousers caught fire, starting a chain reaction of fabric going up in flames. 

Edward wasn't certain if he was laughing or dry-sobbing as he watched his current frustration and the only thing he'd been able to bring from home both go up in smoke. 

A shadow fell over him, then the dragon landed on the other side of the pool from him, cupped a claw and filled it with water, then splashed it at the flames. With the size of its claws, it was more than enough water to drench everything, and the flames went out with a hiss of steam. 

Edward squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed roughly at his face, half to check that he hadn't actually started crying, half because he couldn't bring himself to look at the dragon as he said, **"Thank you,"** in Amestrisan. 

The dragon let out a sort of rumbling noise, which seemed almost to sound like a wordless sound of inquiry, like a human might make. 

Edward frowned a bit and looked up, found the dragon sat on their haunches and watching him with their head tilted slightly to one side. Again, he was reminded of Alphonse's contraband cats, and he shook his head in disbelief, even as he said, **"I do not suppose _you_ happen to know how to cook, do you?"** And then, not waiting for any sort of response, Edward snorted and turned away. **"Ha! Even if you _do_ , it is not like you could tell me, could you? Stupid beast."**

Just before he reached the door back into the tower, a gravelly, male voice from behind him replied, **"I take offense to that, boy."**

Edward whirled, shocked. **"You can talk!"** he exclaimed, before almost immediately adding angrily, **"Do not call me ' _boy_ '. I am not a _child_."**

The dragon looked almost uncertain for a moment, before shifting slightly, wings causing just enough of a breeze to set the leaves of the palm trees swaying gently. **"You look young, to me. And I haven't a name to use for you."**

**"I just turned eighteen,"** Edward insisted, not caring if it came out a little petulant, and the dragon shifted again, head moving forward a bit, like he was trying to get a better look at Edward. He scowled at the dragon and started to say, **"I am Cr–"**

He stopped, realising that, for once, he'd found someone who didn't know he was royalty, and was unlikely to ever discover such until long after Edward had got away. So he cleared his throat and offered, **"I am Ed."**

**"Greetings, Ed,"** the dragon rumbled, dipping his head in a manner that wasn't unlike how Edward would have greeted someone with a nod of his head. **"I'm Roy."**

Edward blinked and frowned at that, confused. **"My father called you Flame, though."**

The dragon – Flame? Roy? – shifted again. **"Flame is the name the alchemists gave me. 'Far more suitable than a human name',"** he added in a gravelly snarl, a spark of fire chasing after the last word. 

Edward swallowed. **"Alchemists? Why would they care about your name?"**

Roy seemed almost to pull in on himself, head and wings pulling in close to his body, and tail wrapping around his legs. Instead of answering Edward, he asked, **"That man was your father?"**

Edward frowned, but he had just enough decency beat into him – between Alphonse, their mother, and Winry; fuck knew his etiquette teacher had been next to useless – not to press what was clearly an uncomfortable subject. **"Yes, my father,"** he agreed, didn't bother offering a name, since he wasn't certain if Roy knew the name of Xerxes' king. 

Roy seemed to relax a bit, his tail loosening its grip on his foreclaws and his neck straightening a bit, closer to his full height again, rather than the attempt at compaction he'd just been making. **"Why would he leave you here, in the middle of the desert?"** he asked, his head cocking to the side a bit. 

Edward made a show of rolling his eyes and waved his hand toward the point along the wall his father had left through. **"He has life plans for me I do not intend to follow. He thinks boring me to death will bring me to his view."**

Roy let out a huff of smoke and flexed his foreclaws against the sand. **"And your back?"** he asked, a sort of tightness to the words that was obvious even through the gravelly effect. 

**"My back?"** Edward repeated, thrown for a moment, as he reached back over his shoulder to touch his bare back – he didn't bother with his robes, since there was no one else there to dress up for, and he had no interest in chancing it around his cooking attempts. His fingers brushed old scars from the whippings he'd got as a boy. "Oh," he realised before dropping his hand back to his side and shrugging. **"An attempt at punishment that my mother did not approve of. It was long ago."**

Roy let out a snarl so vicious, Edward couldn't help but flinch back, turning wide eyes on the dragon. **"Whipping a child is _barbaric_!"** Roy practically roared, flames licking around the edges of his mouth. **"You Xerxesians–"**

Edward was hardly one to agree with whipping as punishment for as pathetic an attempt at running away as he'd managed during the time period his father had resorted to such measures, but his country pride wouldn't let him stand by and listen as a foreigner defamed his people. **"Do not _dare_ to insult my people, _lizard_!"** he ordered with all the authority due his station. **"The people of Xerxes are brilliant and kind, and I will not stand here and allow you to malign them simply because you agree not with the actions of _one man_."**

Roy shifted back a step, staring at Edward as though he was seeing him for the first time, for a long moment, before looking away and rumbling, **"I apologise. It seems I've internalised more pro-Amestrisan propaganda than I'd realised."**

Edward frowned at that and crossed his arms over his chest; it was no secret that Amestris and Xerxes had an uneasy history, at the best of times. Amestris had been founded by a Xerxesian emigrant who had hated his native country and her king nearly four hundred years ago. While they'd never _officially_ been at war with each other, Xerxes had supplied Drachma, to the north, with weapons to use in a number of their semi-regular skirmishes along the Drachman/Amestrisan border over the years, and they supplied Aerugo with alchemical knowledge long before they'd ever offered any to Amestris, who had been asking for such – and sending people to try sneaking books out of their borders, most of whom were returned to their families in pieces – since before Xerxes had officially recognised them as an actual country. 

Van's rule had so far been a relatively friendly one between the two countries, but Edward could probably insult Roy just as easily with some of his beliefs about Amestris. Which wouldn't be nearly so uncomfortable an idea if the dragon was less capable of of ending his life before he could get something to protect himself with. 

**"Somehow,"** he offered, his voice coming out dry, **"I think we will be insulting each other's homes more than we will be complimenting them."**

Roy let out a snort of smoke. **"True."**

Edward unfolded his arms so he could scratch at his cheek. **"I did not think a dragon would have country pride, though."**

Roy's wings went flat against his back and he looked away. **"This one does,"** he growled, before sort of hopping into the air, his wings opening with a snap, and beating one strong gust of wind, which got him high enough to fly over the wall and spiral up over the open desert until he was high enough to come to a rest on the top of the tower. 

Edward blinked up at him, confused, before shaking his head and making his way back inside; he should probably clean up the kitchen and make himself a sandwich, anyway. 

-0-

Edward didn't bother trying to talk to Roy again that day, and he was distracted from a brief nap next to the pool after a long period of morning practise with the dummies, by someone alchemising a part of the wall open. 

Edward rushed up into a crouch, hands held in front of him, almost touching, as he looked toward the new hole. 

The first person to step through was wearing the uniform of the Xerxes Guard, and she was carrying the familiar spear and short sword that Edward had grown up training with. The second person was dressed the same, but with the markings designating him a guard captain, and he called, "Your Highness, we're accompanying a merchant here on his Royal Majesty, King Van's orders." 

Edward relaxed and stood, absently brushing off his trousers as he did. He spared a brief regret for the robes still hanging up in his bedroom on the top floor of the tower, but he decided it didn't really matter; this was hardly the royal court, where he had to be dressed for his station any time he was away from either his bedroom or the sparring courtyard. And, anyway, this whole _compound_ was essentially his bedroom, given the only other being inhabiting it was a dragon. 

"I'm glad to see you, Captain," Edward returned as he approached them. 

A weedy-looking man stepped through the opening, wringing his hands together, and he performed a terrible, ridiculously low bow. "Your Highness, I am Hamid, a travelling merchant. It is the absolute greatest of honours to serve your every need. Simply name it." 

"A ride out of here?" Edward couldn't resist joking. 

Before the last syllable had left his mouth, he had two spears kissing his throat. 

The merchant let out a whimper and covered his head, but Edward narrowed his eyes at the captain. "Point those somewhere else, before I take them," he ordered in his coldest voice. 

And then a rumbling growl came from above them. 

"Or," Edward added with smirk he couldn't resist, while the merchant fled back through the wall with a terrified little screech, "you can just deal with the angry dragon." 

The guards quickly stepped back, leaving a fair deal of distance between them and Edward. "Angry dragon or no," the captain replied in a voice that only shook a little; Edward could admit to being a bit impressed, "if you attempt to step outside the wall, I've orders to return you inside with any means necessary, and then whip you once for each of your years." 

The regret in his voice at that last was the only thing that kept Edward from making another joke, just to see how far he could push these soldiers; one of his friends among the palace guard had been the one ordered to whip Edward the last time before Trisha had put her foot down, and it had been _months_ before he'd been able to face Edward again. And, even then, he'd kept apologising at random moments, or breaking into tears. 

(Some punishments, Edward had learnt from that, were far harder on the one delivering it, than it was on the one receiving it, and he'd been grateful for his mother's intervention more on behalf of the guards, than for himself.) 

So, instead of offering another joke, Edward quietly promised, "I have no intention of being whipped today, Captain." Then he snorted and waved a hand toward where he knew Roy was still perched on top of the tower. "Besides, he's his own orders to deal with me if I try an escape, and I've no interest in discovering what those might be." 

Both guards shuddered, and the woman offered, "Nor would I, Highness. I'd fear enough having to live with it every day." 

Edward shrugged and looked up toward Roy, finding the dragon perched on the very edge of the roof, wings spread out to either side to either keep his balance or be even more intimidating. (Or both.) He was watching them rather like Edward had often seen the palace hunting hawks eye the mouse their handlers had just pulled out to feed them, and he grimaced a bit at the correlation, even as he waved and called up in Amestrisan, **"Just setting some boundaries, Roy! Calm down!"**

Roy shuffled back onto the roof a bit and closed his wings, but he didn't stop staring down at them, nor respond verbally. 

Edward shrugged again and turned back to the guards. "That's as non-threatening as he gets, sorry. Hamid!" he called after the merchant. "I can't come out to you!" 

The merchant poked his head back through the opening in the wall, staring up at the roof of the tower. "Will it eat me?" he asked so quietly, Edward almost missed what he'd said. 

He sighed and didn't bother resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "No. What have you got for me?" 

The merchant was clearly nervous, and the absolutely _refused_ to come back through the wall, which necessitated the guards carrying the supplies Edward wanted from the cart to just inside the wall, Edward insisting he could carry it all inside himself. (Really, he just didn't want anyone to see the scorch marks from his many failures in the kitchen.) 

Once everything was inside the walls, the captain ushered the other guards out ahead of himself, then turned and sketched a bow. "Your Highness. Thank you for being so amiable." 

"Of course," Edward murmured, and watched with an uncertain frown as the captain stepped back through the wall, then pressed a piece of parchment with an array for shaping sand against his side, closing the hole and blocking off Edward's view of endless desert. 

Sighing a bit, Edward turned to the task of carrying his new things inside. But, before he could get his first load to the door of the tower, Roy let out a roar and took off from the top of the tower to fly out over the desert in the same direction that the merchant's cart had been pointed. 

Edward didn't bother resisting a laugh at what looked very much like a territorial display. 

It seemed those childhood tales had got some things right, after all. 

-0-

Edward brought his next failed attempt at cooking outside while it was still smoking. The one he'd thrown at the wall the day before had vanished from the pot overnight – and thus had prompted him to clean everything up that morning, before his visitors had arrived – and he had a pretty good idea where it had gone; he didn't expect dragons much cared if their meals tasted a bit charred. 

Roy was curled up on the ground on the far side of the pool, it being late enough in the evening that the setting sun didn't hold his interest on top of the tower. He watched Edward's approach through barely opened eyes, and didn't offer any sort of greeting. 

Edward huffed a bit, then showed him the pot's contents. **"Do you want this?"**

Roy's forked tongue snaked out and caught the pot, tugging it out of Edward's hands while he stared on in disbelief. Using only the two split ends of his tongue, the dragon managed to upend the burnt mess of not-food onto his tongue, set the pot on the ground at Edward's feet, then pulled his tongue back into his mouth, all without spilling any of the food onto the sand. 

Edward cleared his throat as he bent over to pick up the pot, feeling oddly warm in a way he didn't really understand. **"Okay, I'm impressed,"** he offered, his voice coming out oddly rough. 

Roy let out a rumble that maybe sounded a little pleased, then closed his eyes all the way. 

Edward frowned at that, subconsciously hugging the empty pot to his chest. He knew he should just leave the dragon to his sleep, but the brief visit from other humans had left him missing talking with other people, and Roy was the only other being in sight. So he finally gave in and asked, **"Is there a reason you're being so quiet?"**

Roy huffed out a pale cloud of smoke that Edward coughed and waved out of his face. The dragon lifted his head off his foreclaws. **"I like being quiet,"** he returned flatly. **"And I'm tired. Go away."** And then he lowered his head back to its original position. 

Edward stared at him for a long moment, feeling hurt in a way that was unfamiliar. **"Fine,"** he said quietly. **"Good night."** And then he turned and hurried back into the tower. He stopped in the kitchen long enough to drop off the pot and decided that, actually, he wasn't hungry, then retreated to his bedroom to toss and turn for a few hours, before finally falling into a restless sleep. 

-0-

Edward woke before the sun and got up to go about his usual day, feeling tired, but also too awake to go back to sleep? It wasn't a sensation he much cared for, which made him irritable. So, when he accidentally turned his breakfast into charcoal – he shouldn't have, he'd figured out eggs and toast relatively quickly – the only response he could think of was a wordless scream and throwing the pan full of blackened food against the far wall. 

There was silence for a moment as he stared after the pan, struggling with the urge to go pick it up and throw it again, and then, from the ground floor, Roy called, **"Ed? Are you okay?"**

**"Fuck off!"** Edward shouted back. **"No one wants to talk you you!"**

And it felt good to say that for about half a minute, then the silence got to him, same as it had done the night before, and Edward raced down the stairs, calling, "Roy!" 

**"I'm right here,"** said the dragon snout poking through the doorway outside, the words slightly muffled. The sharp points pointing down from his chin were scraping the sandstone floor with every word, which couldn't be comfortable, but he'd pushed his snout into the tower as far as it would go, like he'd wanted, desperately, to come in and check on Edward. 

A huge chunk of his irritation vanished, and Edward slowed to a stop just in front of Roy's snout, resting a gentle hand on the tip. **"I just burnt more food,"** he offered, though he honestly wasn't certain Roy had actually heard him, with the doorway in the way. Which, actually– **"Back up a bit,"** he called, louder, and Roy's snout obediently retreated out the doorway. 

Edward stepped forward, pressing his hands together and considering the wall around the human-sized doorway. There were cooling arrays carved into the wall on either side, but he could move those without too much trouble, he'd just have to reactivate them after. The ceiling wasn't nearly as high as he'd like for what he had in mind, but if there was one material he _wasn't_ lacking, it was sand. 

So he knelt and pressed his hands against the floor of the doorway, closing his eyes to concentrate as he pulled up enough sand to give the tower a bit more height and add some additional stairs, while also resizing the doorway so Roy could actually see inside comfortably. He re-carved the arrays on the extended walls, and also some miniature copies around the edges of the doorway, because he had nowhere near enough wood to reshape the door – unless he wanted to take out half the palm trees – and such a large opening was going to let in a lot of heat. 

Only once the transmutation had finished, did he open his eyes and give everything a critical once-over. It looked good, though he might have some trouble reaching the cooling array he'd set in the top of the doorway, damn. 

**"Okay, I'm impressed,"** Roy admitted, and Edward blinked up at him. **"I don't know a single Amestrisan alchemist who could have pulled that off with so little effort."**

Edward couldn't resist a derisive snort. **"Please. You cannot believe we have taught Amestris even _half_ of our tricks."**

Roy snorted out a cloud of smoke. **"Ah, like that clapping trick."**

Edward managed a thin smile as he walked over to one of the cooling arrays and activated it. Truthfully, the internal array was one secret that had only ever been passed down in the royal family, because anyone capable of it would be one dangerous opponent. It was also, he knew, deadly for someone with either insufficient alchemical knowledge, or insufficient alchemical ability, because when an array backfired, it tended to explode, and internal arrays meant the alchemist _was_ the array. 

Which, considering that, he'd probably need to stop using internal arrays once he figured out how to dodge Roy and escape this little prison of his father's, unless he _wanted_ to give away his origins at every opportunity. 

Roy shifted a bit, crouching down closer to the ground as Edward activated arrays. There wasn't really room for him on this side of the pool, but he didn't seem concerned by the palm tree he was bending a bit with one side, or the water one of his back claws was in. He appeared far more interested in watching Edward work, which made him scowl a bit as the silence between them stretched. 

And then, out of nowhere, Roy rumbled, **"It's forbidden."**

Edward stopped looking around for something to stand on so he could activate the last array. **"What?"** he asked, confused. 

Roy shifted, his front claws digging up a bit of the sparse grass. **"Human speech. The Führer ordered our silence, and our keepers enforce it. Painfully."**

Edward frowned at that, disgust and sympathy churning his stomach. He'd never much cared for sympathy, himself, so he turned away to get a chair he'd almost forgotten about, which was sat against the wall at the farthest point from the original door. **"If they are so terrible to you, why stay? The stories always paint dragons as near invulnerable and perfectly capable of fighting their way out of bad odds."**

Roy shifted again and huffed out a dark cloud of smoke. **"Maybe real dragons,"** he agreed so quietly, Edward had trouble understanding the words around the gravel in his voice. And then, a bit louder, Roy said, **"You're an alchemist; I assume you know what a chimera is."**

Edward dropped the chair, his stomach plummeting. Chimerae were vile, twisted perversions of nature. Creations of one of the absolute lowest forms of alchemy, and illegal to so much as _study_ in Xerxes. Edward knew a handful of arrays for it, only because it was the king's duty to recognise and punish violations of their laws appropriately, so learning illegal arrays had been part of his lessons as crown prince; the _only_ lesson he'd had both without Alphonse, and with Van as his teacher. 

**"Tell me they did not,"** Edward breathed, _pleaded_ , because if the Amestrisan Führer knew enough to forbid Roy speech, then he surely knew what was going on, which meant the leader of Amestris was _condoning_ this perversion of alchemy. 

Roy looked away, toward the wall. **"I'm a traitor to my country; this is my due,"** he said, monotone. Like he was repeating something that had been said to him so often, he'd started to believe it. 

**"Camel shit!"** Edward snapped, and Roy looked back at him, something almost startled in his intelligent eyes. 

Not being allowed to use human speech, or a human name... 'Traitor to my country'... 

Edward swallowed bile as he realised, **"You were human."**

**"Yes,"** Roy agreed simply, his wings moving in a sort of approximation of a shrug. 

Human transmutation was just as forbidden as chimera creation, and to _cross_ the two branches... 

Edward couldn't begin to follow that reasoning, especially since he _knew_ the price for human transmutation, the whole royal family did. Perhaps the chimera array helped negate the price enough to make it safe for the alchemist – he couldn't bear to think too hard about the specifics – but _still_. Crossing two or more species together was utterly against the natural order, and every report Edward had ever read on the trials of such alchemists, suggested that the animals were in _unbearable_ pain. To force animals, who couldn't speak, to suffer such was one thing, but to do it to a _human_?

He walked forward and wrapped his arms around as much of Roy's neck as he could manage. **"I'm sorry,"** he said, couldn't quite bring himself to feel shame when his voice cracked for the first time in almost a year. **"We should never have given Amestris alchemy."** Because if his ancestors had known what Amestris would do with that knowledge, they would have done everything possible to keep it from them; of _that_ , Edward was certain. 

Warm scales pressed against his back, and Edward turned his head to find that Roy had ducked his head down and pressed his chin against him, returning the hug, and he turned back around to hide a smile that ached against the scales in front of him. 

He couldn't say how much time passed before Roy raised his head again, quietly offering, **"I was an alchemist, before, and I would be dead, if I wasn't a dragon; comparatively, I'd rather be like this."**

To be fair, if given the choice between death and being a fire-breathing dragon, Edward would have picked the dragon, too. But, still... He stepped back a few paces so he could look up at Roy. **"Are you hurting?"** he had to ask. 

Roy's head tilted to the side. **"Hurting?"** he repeated. 

Edward swallowed and nodded, lacing his fingers together to help resist the urge to wave his hands around as he explained, **"Everything I have ever read of surviving chimerae has them in constant pain."**

Roy let out a sort of half-snarl, half-grunt noise and shook his head. **"I've never had that problem."**

Well, that was...interesting. Either there was something different about human-animal hybrids, or the Amestrisans had worked out any issues with their calculations simply because their victim could talk. (Or the Xerxesians had been murdering chimerae for centuries, unaware that they weren't actually in pain, but Edward shied away from that thought for the sake of his own belief in his country's laws.) 

He shook those questions away, recalling a far more important matter: **"Roy,"** he said grimly, **"you cannot _ever_ let another Xerxesian find out you are a chimera, do you understand? It is one of our laws that any alchemists found practising chimera alchemy and any surviving experiments are to be killed."** And that was one law that, even if Edward was willing to sit the throne, he'd never be able to abolish, because it was too much a part of their culture; any attempts to explain a decision to overrule even a _part_ of that law would only endanger Roy. As much as he wanted to escape him, he couldn't knowingly endanger his life. 

**"It's not something we're given much opportunity to spread around,"** Roy pointed out drily. 

Of course, the rule about not speaking. Too, Edward would bet, it kept the chimerae from being able to discuss rebelling against their captors. From that standpoint, it was genius. But, from a human rights standpoint... 

Even the most despicable of Xerxesian criminals were allowed their rights as human beings, including a last meal, the right to say goodbye to any family, and the right for their death to be attended by family or friends. Too, there was always a court physician, to ensure they had died before their body was removed to Traitor's Pyre, where criminals' bodies were burnt, because burning people alive was barbaric, no matter their crimes. 

Edward tightened his fingers around each other and had to ask, **"What did you do? To be labelled a traitor?"** Because he needed to know. It didn't _seem_ as though Roy was a bad person. Being. But he didn't, honestly, know all that much about him. 

Roy looked down, at where his foreclaws were destroying the sparse grass. **"You've heard about the eastern civil war?"**

Edward pulled his hands apart to tighten them both into fists, snarling, **" _Genocide_."** Because Xerxes had taken in not-quite a full hundred Ishvalan refugees who'd fled the fighting, most of them badly wounded, even the children. One of them, a pregnant woman with burns all down her left side, Edward had heard, hadn't quite reached Xerxes' borders before collapsing. Her child had survived, thanks to the quick actions of some of her fellow Ishvalans and a couple of the border guards, but the woman had died where she'd fallen. 

Edward had been in the throne room, standing in his place by his father's side, when the first of the refugees had come begging asylum. He'd heard, first hand, the story of the Ishvalan child killed by an Amestrisan soldier, the ensuing uprising of the Ishvalans demanding retribution for the life taken, and the swift and absolute response by the military, turning what _should_ have been solved peacefully, into a bloodbath. 

**"It was,"** Roy agreed, regret in his voice, and Edward frowned up at him, stomach churning. **"I and a few of my fellows didn't approve of the decisions made, and we started plotting ways to overthrow Führer Bradley. We were caught."**

Edward...didn't really know how he felt about that. On one hand, plotting to murder your country's ruler went against everything he was, and he would have gladly stood by the decision to brand such person a traitor and condemn them to death. On the other hand, Amestris' ruler was no ruler Edward would ever wish to follow, ordering a genocide and condoning chimera alchemy. 

**"Excuse me,"** he said, turning away from Roy. **"I need some time to think."**

Roy didn't give a response to that, so Edward retreated to his weapons room and dropped down in the middle of the slightly cushioned floor, curling into a ball and covering his ears, eyes squeezed tightly shut. It was a position he'd discovered as a child, when everything felt too overwhelming and the couldn't find a quiet place to think; he'd just find a dark corner where people weren't likely to spot him, curl himself into a ball, and block as many of his senses as he could so he could _focus_ for once. 

This was hardly the same – noise and the crush of people were hardly concerns – but the position was a familiar comfort, one that helped. 

He was living with a chimera who'd plotted against his own ruler. Everything Edward had been taught as a child said he should have been killed, was _better off_ dead and no longer in pain. And he was intending to run away, anyway, so it hardly mattered how he felt about his jailer, right? 

Wrong. 

Because Edward _did_ care. 

They'd hardly talked much, but he liked Roy. Which, well, maybe it was because he was stuck as Edward's only companion, or maybe because his reasons for plotting against his ruler would have been reason enough for Edward to do the same. 

Or, maybe, he could admit to himself, it was because Roy had been protective of him, not because of who he was or because he'd been ordered to, but _just because_. (Because Van was a bit absentminded sometimes, but he'd never tell his guards to whip Edward if he made any moves like he might escape, and then tell the dragon he'd set to guard him to destroy anyone who threatened him; that display the day before had been all Roy.) 

Which meant...what? He liked Roy enough to ignore the part of him that said he should be dead? 

Yes, apparently. 

Edward sighed into the silence of his curl, because none of that really mattered, in the end. _Dis_ liking Roy would have been easier, given him the steel necessary to just off the chimera and leave his little prison. Instead, he'd have to find some way to sneak past Roy, or maybe convince him to let him go? 

Edward choked on a laugh, because his father had to have something over Roy to keep him from just flying the coop. But _what_?

And, fuck, what would Van do to Roy if Edward managed to escape him? Kill him? Dissect him to figure out the best way to defeat Amestris' other chimera-dragons? 

Edward straightened from his curl and did his best to swallow down the bile climbing his throat as he stared at the nearest practise dummy, because he knew his father and their court, and he knew all too well the uncertain strength of their peace with Amestris. Xerxes had far greater alchemy, and Amestris had a truly terrifying military, but neither to them wanted to fight in the Great Xerxes Desert, nor to have to cross it to get to the other, so they kept the peace with each other. But, if Amestris could set a large enough group of dragons on Xerxes... 

He shuddered, was surprised his father hadn't just gone straight to dissecting Roy. But, then, Van had probably been made to agree not to kill the dragon unless given sufficient cause. Or, perhaps, he'd hoped to win Roy's loyalty somehow, then have him fight for Xerxes' sake, or get his brethren to turn sides? 

Edward let off blocking his ears and rubbed at his mouth. Eighteen years, and he still didn't understand his father's actions half the time. Perhaps that was simply because he wasn't ruler material. 

That...didn't really matter, however. What did, was that Roy's life was very likely forfeit if Edward managed to escape. And if his people found out Amestris had been making chimerae – and they very well might, if they cut Roy open – it wouldn't matter how hard it would be to send an army through the desert, or Van's own pacifistic nature, they would go to war. And with Edward run away, Alphonse–

Edward squeezed his eyes shut. _Shit_. His brother was king material, certainly, and he was no slouch as a warrior, but the thought of him going to war was enough to make Edward reconsider giving up his right to the throne, just so it would be _his_ job to stand at the head of the army, and his brother could remain safe in the palace, watching over their mother. 

He _couldn't_ let his people go to war over chimerae. And he couldn't leave Roy for his father to kill. But he _also_ couldn't leave his home open to attack by chimera-dragons. 

He had no moves, no direction that wouldn't see someone he cared about hurt, except returning with his father when he came out next, and giving up any chance he might have had for his own freedom. 

Edward choked out a laugh that was almost a sob and buried his face in his hands, because everything had been for _nothing_. All those years of trying to run away, all the noble girls he'd turned down, the scars from the whippings and the two days locked in the palace's prison, it hadn't got him _anywhere_.

His father had finally won. 

-0-

Edward ended up in the library for the rest of the day, scouring through the library meant for a crown prince to try and find the law about chimerae; he needed to find _some_ way to keep Roy safe from persecution by the Xerxesians. 

There wasn't anything, of course – the law was _very_ clear about how to handle chimerae – but there were provisions for foreigners who turned traitor on their native country and requested asylum inside Xerxes' borders, and since Roy was a human chimera, he deserved the rights of a human. Right? 

Edward swallowed and tightened his hands around the book; he could trade his cooperation for Roy's safety, if necessary. Still, information about Amestris would always be welcome, like what means they used to control the dragon-chimerae. After all, if they were all criminals or traitors, like Roy, no way the Amestrisans would trust them to follow orders. They had to have _something_. If they could figure out a way to negate that control, maybe they could turn the chimera-dragons back on Amestris. 

Decided, Edward nodded once to himself, grabbed a blank journal and a pen off the desk the room had been equipped with, and made his way downstairs and outside, calling ahead an uncertain, "Roy?" as he blinked into the orange glow of the setting sun, so different from the gentle glow of the alchemic lights inside the tower. 

For a moment, he thought the setting sun had coloured the pool red, but then he realised the red was _beyond_ the pool, and littered with scales. " _Roy_!" he shouted, dropping his pen and journal and rushing across the open space toward where Roy was trying to hide a gash in his side behind one bloodied claw. **"Move your claw!"** he ordered as he reached the edge of the blood-stained sand, already pressing his hands together and activating a healing array. 

Roy, though, reached out with his other foreclaw to stop him. **"It's not what you think,"** he rumbled, something that might have been guilt in his voice. 

**"I do not care what it is, you moron!"** Edward snapped back, trying to get past the claw in his way with no luck. **"Just let me heal you already!"**

**"Healing alchemy?"** Roy said, gone still with surprise. 

Edward took the chance to dodge the claw in his face and walked right up to the angry gash in Roy's side. He was just about to touch the scales around the wound – and hope he could actually _heal_ a chimera-dragon, fuck – when the dying sun caught on a bit of metal inside the wound and nearly blinded him. "The fuck?" he murmured in Xerxesian, letting the healing alchemy go for the moment and reaching for the metal, because he was pretty damn certain that didn't belong inside _anyone_ , chimera or natural. 

It was definitely metal, and the gentle tug didn't shift it an inch, but Roy did hiss, and Edward immediately snatched his hand away, horrified. 

**"The alchemists,"** Roy explained before Edward could find the words to ask, **"shoved metal plates inside each of us, to keep us from taking human form. If I try, it'll kill me."**

**"But that is barbaric!"** Edward insisted, looking up at the dark eyes watching him. And then he finally processed the rest of what Roy had said. **"Wait, you can take on a human form?"**

**"Supposedly,"** Roy agreed tightly, before pointing at his wound with his bloodied claw. **"I don't have a good angle to see it. Can you...help?"**

Edward stared up in the dark eyes, read the pain and desperation in them, and swallowed his own revulsion at the thought of digging around inside someone's body. **"I will do my best,"** he offered. 

Roy nodded, then motioned Edward forward again, offering, **"I don't know how big it is, only the general area, because I saw them inserting them in Riza and Maes."**

**"Riza and Maes?"** Edward repeated, mostly to keep Roy talking while he gently tried to figure out the dimensions of the metal. His hands were already slick with blood, which wasn't helping, and a part of him was trying very hard _not_ to calculate how much blood Roy should have, given his size, and compare it against the stained sand. 

**"My best friends,"** Roy offered, so much pain in his voice, it couldn't all have been from the gash in his side. **"We were all dragged in together."**

Edward let that information gather in the back of his head for a moment while he focussed on the metal, which was quite a bit wider than he'd expected, and curved slightly, like it had shaped itself to fit inside Roy's body. It seemed to have been placed between the dermis and hypodermis, and from what Edward could see of it, would likely do a lot of damage in the process of removing it. Assuming he could get Roy into a position where he could just slide it out. 

**"I'm going to try something,"** he warned, then pressed his hands together. The metal looked to be steel, which he knew was rather popular in Amestris – between their love of weaponry and a booming metal prosthetics industry – though unusual in Xerxes. Still, he wouldn't be much of an alchemist if he couldn't recognise a particular metal after a few minutes of observing it, even if most of it was hidden inside someone; he was almost positive he could break it down into tiny pieces that would just fall out, with a little help. 

Roy huffed out a small cloud of smoke, then said, **"Do it."**

Edward nodded, then lightly pressed his fingers against the edge of the metal. 

Alchemic energy sparked around them, and Roy let out a discomfited sound, but didn't move. Which was good, because Edward couldn't promise he'd have been able to keep contact with the metal if the other had jerked away, which would have ended this attempt before it went anywhere. 

The metal was terrifyingly large, judging by the length of time it took for the transmutation to stop sparking energy, and Edward sent up a mental prayer to Airyaman, the Xerxesian god associated with healing, because he might not really believe in his people's deities, but fuck knew Roy needed all the help he could get, and better safe than sorry. 

When he pulled his hands away, a wave of small metal scraps fell out of Roy's body, most of them dropping to the ground, but Edward did have to brush a few bits out of the wound before he could clap his hands together again and finally heal the gaping wound. The skin healed up fine, but there was a large bare patch of scales, and Edward had a sinking suspicion those would have to grow back in on their own. But at least Roy wasn't bleeding any more, which was what really mattered. 

"Thank fuck," he murmured, before the world tilted a bit. 

"Ed!" Roy called, and a claw was suddenly cradling him. **"What's wrong?"**

Edward shook his head, scowling at the way the world wobbled warningly. **" _Nothing_ ,"** he insisted, right before his stomach made an angry noise. He sighed and slumped back into Roy's claw. **"I might be hungry."** Or, you know, it could have been a full day since the last time he'd eaten anything, because food hadn't been a priority in a while. Not that he intended to say that part aloud. 

**"Aim for something easier than you usually try,"** Roy suggested, his tone rather dry, even as he picked Edward up and started across the oasis. 

**"Put me down!"** Edward ordered, wrapping his arms around the nearest finger and holding on for dear life. 

The rumbling laugh Roy let out warmed Edward in a way he didn't really have a word for, and then he was being gently sat down just inside the widened doorway. **"Go on."**

Edward frowned at him. **"You are staying here?"** he asked, because if Roy could change into a human form, there was plenty of room for him inside the tower, and then Edward could quiz him while he ate. 

**"I'm stuck outside for the moment,"** Roy admitted, before tapping one bloodied claw against his undamaged side. 

**"There is _more than one_?!"** Edward said, couldn't quite bring himself to care as his voice jumped an octave. 

Roy didn't need to respond; the tired droop of his head said it all. 

Edward turned and stalked up to the kitchen, snarling disparaging remarks about Amestrisan alchemists in Drachman –always the best language for insulting alchemists – and only leaning against the wall a little bit. 

He cleaned his hands with a bit of alchemy, letting the broken-down blood components fall into one of the pots he'd charcoaled food in and so was beyond most non-alchemy means of cleaning, then made himself two sandwiches, since that had become his easy fall-back. He pretty much inhaled one of them before he had everything put away again, and was about halfway through the second one by the time he made the stairs, finishing it about the same time as he reached the ground floor. 

Where he found Roy pulling out scales on his undamaged side. 

**"Stop that!"** he ordered, aghast, because no way that didn't hurt. 

**"You can't cut through them,"** Roy replied flatly, even as he pulled out another one. 

Edward hurried forward and grabbed Roy's foreclaw, tugging on it to try and keep him from pulling out more scales, because it hurt to watch. **"There must be another way to do this! _Please_ , Roy!"**

Roy's claw froze for a moment, then twisted and wrapped around Edward's waist, picking him up again – Edward sincerely _hoped_ this wasn't the start of a trend – and holding him up high enough that they could see eye-to-eye without one of them needing to crane their neck. Edward did his best to look pleading, rather than irritated, while Roy stared at him in silence for a long moment, the alchemical lights too dim to really let Edward get a read on the emotions in the dark eyes. 

At last, Roy quietly explained, **"The only way past my scales is to remove them. Trust me, I know. And we can't get that metal out without getting past them. Which means they need to come out."**

Edward had to look away, hating the calm certainly in those words. **"I do not like seeing people I care for hurting,"** he complained. 

The claw around Edward spasmed, and he grabbed at a finger, half afraid Roy would lose his grip. 

But he didn't. Instead, the claw tightened back up again, holding Edward securely, and the end of Roy's snout bumped against his shoulder. **"I care for you, too,"** Roy offered, a heavy sort of meaning to the words that Edward couldn't quite grasp. 

Then Roy was lowering him back down to the ground, saying, **"I won't have to remove as many, with you here, if that makes you feel any better?"**

**"Some,"** Edward allowed, but he still had to look away as Roy went back to picking off a line of scales. 

Eventually, Roy said, "Ed," and he turned back around, wincing at the line of skin where scales used to be. 

**"I do not have a knife,"** he pointed out. 

Roy wiggled one claw at him, deadly-sharp nails clicking as they struck against each other. **"I do."**

Edward grimaced at that, but didn't try to stop him as Roy made a long, neat cut in his side, more than deep enough to reach where the metal should be. Blood poured out of the wound, and Edward had to swallow back bile as he pushed his hands into the cut, trying to find the edge of the metal plate. 

It wasn't hard – Roy's aim had been excellent – and Edward quickly pressed his hands together and touched the metal again, sparking alchemic energy and shading Roy's blood purple. 

As soon as all the metal was out, Edward pressed his hands together again, then healed the wound, breathing out a sigh of relief when the skin healed without a mark. 

**"Done,"** he called as he stepped back, looking up at Roy. 

Roy nodded, then closed his eyes. Nothing happened for a moment, then the little hairs on Edward's arms stood up straight and the scent of ozone filled the air. Purple alchemic light sparked, lighting Roy up and sparking against Edward's skin even as he stumbled back, heart in his throat; he knew what that colour reaction meant. 

The light flashed once, too bright to look at, then died away. Roy-the-dragon had vanished, leaving behind a naked human in his place. Said human looked far too thin, and his skin was far too pale to be healthy, by Edward's figuring, while shaggy black hair topped his head. 

Edward took an uncertain step forward, calling, "Roy?" 

The human let out a weak groan and attempted to push against the ground with one hand, to no apparent effect. "Ed?" an unfamiliar voice said. 

Edward knelt next to the human and gently touched their shoulder. **"I am right here,"** he offered quietly. 

The human's head twisted, and Edward found himself meeting familiar black eyes through the ragged hair. **"So tired,"** Roy said, before those dark eyes closed. 

**"I have got you,"** Edward promised, and Roy's breathing almost immediately evened out into a sleeping rhythm. 

Edward sat back on his heels and rubbed at his face, only to grimace when he remembered the blood his hands were covered in. He needed to clean himself up again, and get Roy upstairs to the bed, but he was having trouble forgetting the change he'd just witnessed. 

Such a drastic change in mass broke pretty much every rule of alchemy Edward knew, but that was hardly the most concerning part: Purple light heralded human transmutation, and human transmutation _always_ involved the empty place that was written of in the royal families' alchemical journals. It was there that you were supposed to be able to trade parts of yourself for impossible boons, but it wasn't up to the alchemist what would be traded, and an alchemist that wasn't strong enough for what they wanted, wouldn't survive the transaction. Which was pretty much the entire reason human transmutation was forbidden, because it cost too much. 

He'd just seen human transmutation when Roy changed forms, but the only thing Roy seemed to have lost, was his health. Which, well, that was certainly a bit of a wretched thing, but Edward had been led to believe that whatever was traded was permanently beyond the alchemist's reach. 

Something wasn't adding up. 

He sighed, started to rub at his face again, then huffed when he recognised the red red staining his hand before he could actually connect with his face. "Well, I'll learn nothing while Roy's sleeping," he told himself dryly, before standing up to go in search of some unbloodied sand he could use to help scour the blood off his hands. 

Once his hands were clean, he picked up Roy – who was as worryingly light as he looked – and started the long trek up the stairs to his bedroom. There, he found some pants for the man – they were loose on him, of course – then tucked Roy into the unnecessarily large bed. And, because it was unnecessarily large and he felt pretty tired himself, Edward shucked off his bloodied trousers, climbed in on the other side and closed his eyes to sleep. 

-0-

Edward woke feeling over-warm, and with a sense of something much heavier than his light sheets draped over his waist. When he opened his eyes, he found himself looking at a thin face, and jerked back startled. 

He didn't get very far, however, as the weight on his waist turned out to be Roy's arm, his hand fisted tightly in the back of Edward's pants. 

Bemused, Edward attempted to loosen Roy's grip without hurting him. But, despite his emaciated appearance, there was apparently plenty of strength in his grip, because Roy's hand only tightened. 

And then, without warning, something snaked its way _under_ Edward and he was pulled flush against Roy, who mumbled something that sounded like the Amestrisan **"Mine."**

Edward's face felt far too hot, while a different sort of warmth settled low in his belly, and his penis – which never seemed to give him the trouble that his male friends in the guard had always said theirs had when they were his age, even around the most attractive members of court – twitched in an unfamiliar way. 

He swallowed, confused by the new sensations. None of it was...unpleasant, necessarily, and it did match some of the gratuitous descriptions of sexual arousal that Jean had supplied when Edward foolishly admitted, at one point, that he didn't know what that was. Which, okay, nice to know that part of him wasn't completely broken, but _why now_? Roy was _male_ , and a chimera, to boot. Not to mention, as emaciated as he was, there wasn't anything attract–

Okay, no, that was a lie. There was something about Roy's eyes that had caught Edward's attention, even when he was a dragon. And he could fill in the blanks a bit, in his head, as to how Roy _should_ look, if he were healthy, and he could certainly be handsome. Fuck, his dragon form was certainly handsome, in its way. 

But, _still_. Roy was male, same as Edward, and that was–

Edward sighed and let his forehead rest against Roy's, his eyes falling closed. 

It was a mess, was what it was. He was the crown prince of Xerxes, and that meant he needed to make a good match with a woman, so she could bear him children to continue the royal line. That was his _duty_. He couldn't be like Jean, cornering that courier he was so enamoured of, Kain, in dark corners in the hallways. And while there were certainly some nobles with lovers of their own gender, for a member of the royal family to do so would be...frowned upon, at the least, and potentially disastrous if whatever foreign princess he ended up marrying took offence. 

"Ed?" Roy murmured, his voice low and rough in a way that absolutely didn't help the warmth in his belly. 

Edward opened his eyes and found himself staring into those familiar dark eyes. He swallowed, then quietly requested, **"Please let me go."**

Roy's eyes widened and he immediately released Edward. 

Edward rolled out of the bed, trying not to shiver as Roy's fingers brushed along his abdomen. **"I will collect food, and then I have some questions for you, if you are willing,"** he said as he stood and moved to collect fresh pants and trousers. He didn't really know what to do about the warmth lingering in his belly, or the way his penis had swelled enough to be an annoyance, so he determined to just ignore it until it went away. 

**"Okay,"** Roy agreed, sounding a little uncertain. 

Edward grabbed the empty water pitcher on his way out of the room, then made his way down to the ground floor. He stopped in the entrance, though, blinking at the battlefield the rising sun had revealed. "Well," he muttered, stepping out onto the bloodstained sand, "this is fantastic." 

He'd have to figure out how to clean it all up before he had visitors again, but that would have wait a bit. For that moment, he relieved himself, then refilled the pitcher in the pool of water – which, miraculously, seemed to have been spared any blood, though his little pool for washing hadn't been near so lucky – and returned to the tower to find them something to eat. He didn't bother attempting any cooking, instead going for simple bread and some of his limited store of butter, because he honestly wasn't sure he had the patience for burning food. 

Roy was sleeping again when Edward got back up to the bedroom, but he startled awake when Edward set the pitcher down a little harder than he'd honestly intended, something that looked rather like terror in his eyes for a brief moment. And then his eyes landed on Edward and he relaxed, smiling. **"Good morning,"** he offered, his voice warm. 

Edward swallowed, silently ordered his body to behave itself, and walked around the bed so he could climb onto it; there wasn't really anywhere else to sit. **"Eat something; you look like you are wasting away,"** he ordered, even as he snatched up his own slice of bread. 

**"I do,"** Roy agreed, confusion colouring his voice, while he held up a hand and frowned at it. **"I can't imagine _why_ , though. I was fine as a dragon, but now I'm–"** his mouth twisted with disgust **"–pathetic. _Weak_."**

**"Your grip is still plenty strong, I promise,"** Edward offered drily as he looked around for writing materials. He knew he'd brought some up to the bedroom early on, but he couldn't remember where he'd stashed them. 

Roy let out a cough, and Edward glanced over to find him looking a little embarrassed. **"I'm sorry. It's a dragon thing, I think."**

**"A dragon thing,"** Edward repeated, unimpressed. 

Roy shifted and finally took a slice of toast. **"You're my treasure, so I have to keep you close. Safe."**

Edward's face felt _way_ too hot all of a sudden, and he quickly jumped off the bed and turned away, ostensibly to look for his writing things, but really just because he couldn't look at Roy after that. **"I am not a _treasure_!"** he insisted, wincing a little at how high-pitched his voice had just gone. Fuck, what even _was_ it about Roy that he was always causing Edward's voice to do weird shit? 

There was a well of humour in Roy's voice when he said, **"Well, your eyes and hair are the closest thing to gold around here, and you're as stunning as any diamond."**

Warmth thrummed through him, and Edward couldn't tell if he was actually embarrassed any more, or if this was something else entirely. So he snapped, **"I need parchment!"** then hurried from the bedroom. 

He retreated to the library, since he _did_ need writing supplies, and slumped into the chair in there, dropping his head to hide his face in his hands and wishing they were cooler, because it was going to take his face _forever_ to cool off. 

For fuck's sake! It was hardly the first time he'd been complimented, and Edward had been long practised at brushing those off with a polite smile and a quick 'thank you'. Such compliments were to be expected, after all, as he _was_ crown prince. Hell, some of them even seemed to _mean_ it, rather than be saying it in hopes it would win them favour. (Not that it ever would have; Edward had been taught from a young age to never let kind words sway his decisions, because _everyone_ wanted _something_ , and the smart ones knew that you caught more flies with honey.) 

But, then, Roy didn't know who Edward was. All he knew, was that Edward had been trapped in a tower in the middle of the desert by his father, because they had a difference of opinion about his future. He could be hoping that Edward would finally bow to his father's wishes and Roy could get something out of it, certainly, but... 

He remembered Roy's arms around him, again, how warm they'd been. _Safe_ , almost. 

Comfortable, despite the improbable way Edward's body had reacted to the nearness. 

That...hadn't seemed like an attempt to sway his opinion. Nor had Roy chasing after the merchant and guards, that had been fairly obviously for his own amusement. Territorial, Edward had thought of it at the time. 

'You're my treasure,' Roy had said. And, last night, 'I care for you, too.'

Edward swallowed and rubbed at his face, his stomach churning, because Roy didn't know a damn thing about him. He cared about unloved little 'Ed', didn't have any idea that he was actually dealing with Edward Hohenheim, crown prince of Xerxes. He didn't know that he'd just told someone's whose duty it was to destroy chimerae, that he was one, that Amestris was purposefully creating more. He'd bared his very soul to Edward, and got nothing in return. 

That wasn't equivalent. 

Taking a deep breath, Edward forced himself to stand, to face this as was befitting of his station. He grabbed a couple loose pieces of parchment and a pen, then returned to the bedroom. 

Roy was working on what looked to be his second piece of bread, but he immediately turned away from it when Edward stopped at the top of the stairs. **"Are you okay?"** Roy asked, his brow furrowed with concern. **"I'm sorry if what I said–"**

**"Bothered me?"** Edward finished, forcing his familiar court smile into place and relaxing back against the tower wall, as far from the bed as he could possibly get in the room. **"Of course not. As I said, I needed to get writing materials."** He held up the parchment and pen pointedly. 

Roy blinked, his expression taking on a slightly confused cast. **"Ed–?"**

**"Edward,"** he corrected, forced his voice to remain steady. Smooth. **"I realised I never introduced myself to you properly: My name is Edward Hohenheim."**

Roy's eyes went wide, and Ed could almost imagine the way his skin would pale, were it already not so white. **"You're the heir to the Xerxesian throne,"** he said, something Edward couldn't quite define in his voice. 

**"Yes,"** Edward replied with a shrug, before turning his attention down to his parchment and pen. **"As I told you, we have laws against chimerae, and there is a chance you will be found out, no matter how quiet you try to keep. I should be able to protect you, but–"**

**"What is this?"** Roy demanded, an edge of authority in his voice that Edward hadn't been expecting, and he looked up in surprise, found his gaze caught by glaring black eyes. **"Protect me? How do you intend to do that while you're stuck out here?"**

Edward forced his shrug to be casual. **"My father is correct; it is time I stop attempting to run away from my duties. When he comes in a couple weeks, I will return to the palace with him."** He forced himself to look away from where Roy had shrunk back against the bed, instead focussing on his writing things again. **"Any information you can give me about how the Amestrisan alchemists have been keeping you and any other chimerae will help me to convince my father you are safe to be let free."**

**"Really,"** Roy said, his tone gone flat in a way that made it hard for Edward to breathe. **"You think my turning traitor on my own country will protect me from your laws."**

**"No, but it will help me to convince my father you do not need an eye on you. You will be free to go where you please."**

Roy scoffed. **"Of course. Betray my country and I can fly away free, no guilt on my conscious."**

Edward shrugged. **"Your conscious is not my concern,"** he lied. **"I can only give you your life and freedom."**

**"At what cost?!"** Roy shouted, that edge of authority in his voice again. 

Edward struggled for a moment at keeping his smile in place, then looked up, daren't attempt another casual shrug as he said, **"My own,"** in as careless a manner as he could manage. 

As Roy's eyes went wide, Edward had to look back down at the parchment. **"Your scales cannot be cut through, you said last night,"** he said, putting pen to parchment and making that note. **"And I know you can breathe fire, because you sometimes let a little out–"**

"Ed," Roy called. 

**"I can understand if you do not wish to tell me of weaknesses,"** Edward said, ignoring Roy as best he was able, **"but numbers would be helpful, or how they are controlling–"**

There was a crash from the bed, then Roy let out a cry that sounded pained, and Edward's head jerked up, his eyes going wide to find the water pitcher – which had been on a table next to Roy's side of the bed – spilt all over the floor, and Roy sprawled in the middle of the puddle. 

"Roy!" Edward shouted, forgetting all about keeping his distance and hurrying over to the other man. **"What are you _thinking_ , getting out of the bed?"** he snapped as he crouched down next to Roy. 

With no warning, Roy lunged at him, and since Edward was hardly balanced against such an attack, he toppled backward, dropping the parchment and pen in favour of reaching up to try and catch himself, only to lose his purchase on the wet floor and wrench his arm. His head hit the floor with a thud he felt through his whole body, and he winced, barely managing to bite back a reflexive noise of pain. 

Roy muffled his own groan of discomfort into Edward's abdomen, having landed on him. **"Poor planning,"** he mumbled, right before arms snaked behind Edward's back, and he was once again held fast in Roy's arms. 

**"What are you doing?"** Edward asked tiredly, his head aching too much to make the effort at playing prince. 

Roy was silent for a moment, until Edward reached down and poked him with the arm that didn't ache to move, whereupon he lifted his head from Edward's abdomen and said, **"I _told_ you: It's a dragon thing."**

Right, keeping his 'treasure' safe, or whatever. 

**"I was a soldier,"** Roy said, before Edward could dredge up a sufficiently scathing comment about the 'treasure' bit, **"a State Alchemist, in the Amestris military."**

Edward couldn't keep from tensing, because he'd also heard, from those Ishvalans refugees, about how devastating those heartless alchemists who had sold their abilities to the military had been. 

**"I wanted to protect my country, all the people who couldn't protect themselves,"** Roy continued, his voice going bitter as he added, **"I was a fool. Bradley doesn't care about the people, only about making Amestris the 'greatest country'. And if he has to crush his own people under his boot to do so, so be it.**

**"So we made plans to overthrow him. Helped each other up the ranks, Maes and me, and Riza watched our backs. But we trusted the wrong person, got betrayed, and were branded traitors. And now I'm...this. Alone. Maes and Riza are trapped back in Amestris, and I _want_ to free them, but I _can't_ ; they'll kill me before I can get close enough to even scorch the building.**

**"All I have, right now, is you. And if you– If Xerxes is going to war with Amestris, if I'm with you, maybe then–"**

Edward leant up on his sore arm and covered Roy's mouth with his other hand, meeting the desperate black eyes watching him. **"If my father and his ministers find out the Amestris military is creating chimerae, make no mistake, they will declare war,"** he said grimly. **"But we do not have the means to send an army across the desert without losses, and I will not be able to protect your friends like I can you."** Roy's eyes squeezed shut, grief shadowing his face. 

Edward swallowed and offered, **"If we wait for Amestris to send your friends to attack Xerxes, not let any of my people know you 'dragons' are actually chimerae, there is a better chance, but I cannot make promises."** He looked away, couldn't bring himself to look at Roy's hopeful gaze as he admitted, **"For the sake of my people, I am not certain I can stomach inviting our enemies through the front gates to maybe save two foreigners."**

Roy let out a laugh that sounded like he'd lost what little hope he'd had. **"They would never forgive me if I agreed to a path that risked innocent lives,"** he admitted quietly. 

Edward squeezed his eyes shut, trying to think of some other way. Some chance to save Roy's friends, without needlessly risking Xerxesian lives. 

_'They'll kill me before I can get close enough to even scorch the building.'_

Edward's eyes snapped opened and he turned to look at where Roy had pressed his face against his abdomen again. **"Your _dragon_ form cannot get close enough to scorch the building,"** he said. 

Roy's head flopped over to one side and he frowned up at Edward. **"Dragon or human, they'll recognise me either way,"** he corrected. **"And, as soon as they do, they'll hit me with enough charge to knock me out."**

Edward frowned, not quite following that bit. **"What is this 'charge'?"**

Roy blinked at him once. **"An electrical charge?"** he said, sounding uncertain. 

Edward shook his head. **"As to power those wired lights you use?"** he assumed; the Amestrisan ambassador had insisted he needed those lighting their embassy, but there hadn't been any electrical source to power it with, because Xerxesians used alchemy or solar energy to run things in their city, neither of which translated well through the ambassador's cords and their odd little connectors. 

**"Yes,"** Roy agreed, a hint of amusement in his eyes for a moment, before he frowned and explained, **"There's something they inserted in us, like those metal plates, that is a sort of...receiver for that energy sent through the air."** He removed one arm from around Edward just long enough to tap his too-obvious spine, between his shoulder blades, then returned his arm to its original position as he explained, **"Right about there. They'd turn it on if one of us was being 'difficult'."**

Edward had to clench his jaw against the need to curse the alchemists involved to an eternity of suffering in whatever version of the afterlife they believed in. He reached out and brushed a lock of hair out of Roy's eyes, only to get distracted by how soft it felt. When he ran his fingers through Roy's hair properly, his eyes slid shut and his expression eased away into something a bit more peaceful, which soothed Edward's ire, a little bit, because it was proof that Roy was okay. 

Well, okay so long as he didn't get spotted by those alchemists and they turned on their 'charge'. And Roy's friends were still in there, suffering whatever cruelties those criminals had in store. 

But, there was one person those alchemists _couldn't_ hit with their electric charge, and would never think to be on guard against: **"They will not recognise me."**

Roy went utterly stiff against him. **"No,"** he said, that edge of authority in his voice again. 

**" _Yes_ ,"** Edward returned, easily matching Roy's level of authority. 

Roy's eyes, when he looked up at Edward, were wild with desperation. **"Ed, _no_. You don't know what they're capable of! If you go in there alone–"**

**"They will underestimate me, just as you,"** Edward returned flatly. When Roy opened his mouth again, eyebrows drawn tightly together, he slapped a hand over his mouth, then said, as firmly as he could, **"My family has been known for producing the strongest alchemists in Xerxes for over five generations. I have been studying alchemy practically from the cradle, and swordcraft and hand-to-hand since I was old enough to hold a sword; I can handle a pile of chimera alchemists."** And then he smiled and added, **"I need only destroy the origin of their electric charge, and then you can do much more than scorch their building."** He pulled his hand away from Roy's mouth. 

Roy still looked unhappy, but he took a moment to stare at Edward, rather than immediately trying to tell him 'no' again. It wasn't hard for Edward to look confident in his abilities – it was, after all, the truth – and Roy eventually deflated, dropping his forehead against Edward's abdomen. **"I don't like it,"** he muttered. 

Edward combed his fingers through Roy's hair again, since it had seemed to calm him last time. **"You do not have to like it,"** he pointed out. **"But, if you wish to save your friends, this is your best choice."**

And, Edward realised with a small start, it meant he wouldn't have to go back with his father. He could just escape while they were in Amestris, well beyond Van's reach, unless he wanted to endanger Edward by requesting Amestris extradite him. 

He could free Roy's friends _and_ himself, all at once. 

"Ed?" Roy called. **"What is it?"**

Edward shook his head, uncertain if he could trust his jailer with his plans to escape. **"Nothing. Anything you can tell me of this laboratory will help."**

Roy's eyes darkened with determination. **"I'll tell you everything I remember,"** he promised, a hint of a growl appearing in his voice as he added, **"But we won't be going _anywhere_ until I'm stronger, am I clear?"**

Inexplicably, warmth pooled low in Edward's belly again at that, which only seemed to get worse when he remembered how impossible it would be for Roy to miss it if his penis started misbehaving again. He managed a nod, and his voice only _threatened_ to crack as he hurriedly said, **"Back in bed, then. Rest will help."**

Roy's eyes narrowed, suspicious for a moment, before suddenly going wide, and Edward's face felt far too warm, because he suspected he knew exactly what Roy had just noticed. 

But Roy didn't say anything, just let go and started to push himself back a bit, his arms shaking. 

Something like loss dragged at Edward's heart, but he pushed it aside as he moved to help Roy back into the bed. The bread had been upset by Roy's attempt to get off the bed, but Edward picked up the one that hadn't ended up butter-side down and held it out to Roy. **"Eat that,"** he ordered. 

Roy's smile was a little strained, but he took the bread and had a bite all the same, while Edward picked up the last piece and sighed about it a bit, then bit into it, because he was still hungry, honestly. **"Can you follow a recipe?"** Roy asked around another bite of his bread. 

Edward frowned down at him and swallowed his mouthful before asking, **"Recipe? Like a chemistry formula?"**

Roy blinked, then let out a laugh that sounded slightly helpless. **"Of course you're a chemist,"** he said. 

Edward huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, only just remembering the bread before he smeared butter all over himself. **"I am an _alchemist_. I do not know how you do this in Amestris, but, in Xerxes, alchemy and chemistry are learnt together."**

Roy shook his head. **"They're related, but most alchemists don't bother learning any chemistry, and plenty of chemists are incapable of doing any alchemy, which is how they get into chemistry."**

Edward hummed at that, because he could see the sense in non-alchemists learning chemistry when they couldn't do alchemy, but he was having a hard time wrapping his head around alchemists who didn't at least learn the _basics_ of chemistry; it made alchemy so much easier if you knew the chemical components of various materials, and what sort of reaction those components would have with other chemicals, or how heat or cold would affect them. 

**"Yes, like a formula,"** Roy said, going back to his original enquiry, **"but for making food."**

Edward blinked at him, vaguely surprised. It made _sense_ that there would be formulae for making food, but he'd never really thought to go looking for any, not that his father would have been likely to leave any in the tower; his intention had _not_ been to give Edward a pleasant holiday retreat. **"I...should be able to manage that,"** he agreed. **"But you will have to tell me how long to leave the flame on it, too, and–"**

Roy burst out laughing, covering his face with one slightly shaking hand. **"Please,"** he said from behind his hand, **"tell me you're not using a Bunsen burner to cook."**

**"What is a 'Bunsen burner'?"**

Roy peeked out at him, his dark eyes bright with amusement. **"What you use to produce a flame to heat your experiments in a chemistry lab."**

Edward blinked at that, thinking of the series of heating arrays he'd been taught for that, because an open flame was always a danger, especially in a chemical lab. They did have a handheld fire creator, which could be used to sterilise equipment when it was needed to be used with two different chemicals that didn't agree, or when you needed a more localised application of heat than the heating arrays could manage, and he assumed that was closer to what Roy meant. He shook his head and offered, **"No, I would not bring that from the laboratory. But it is similar, in that there is a flame for heating."** He frowned a bit. **"It is odd. The flames have different settings, but I do not see the point of that."**

Roy started laughing again. 

Edward scowled and took another angry bite of his bread; it wasn't _his_ fault he didn't know anything about working in a kitchen! 

Roy finally uncovered his face and tried to give Edward an apologetic look, but his smile ruined it. **"I'm sorry, Ed,"** he said, which at least _sounded_ honest. **"You don't use different levels of heat in chemistry?"**

Edward stilled, shocked, and then embarrassed. "Oh," he managed a bit helplessly. That...hadn't occurred to him. He wasn't _used_ to working with fire, okay? 

Roy coughed. **"If you have paper and a pen, I can tell you how to make stew; you're unlikely to turn that into charcoal."**

**"Be silent,"** Edward ordered as he looked around for the writing things he'd brought up. They'd fallen in the water on the floor, of course, and he shoved the last of his bread in his mouth, then clapped his hands together for an array to dry parchment. It sparked as he picked it up, almost immediately dry. He'd lost the notes he'd written on it earlier, but he wasn't certain he cared so much about those, honestly. 

**"That must be handy,"** Roy commented, his voice almost careful. 

Edward eyed him as he stood after picking up the pen. **"Sometimes,"** he agreed flatly, then sat on the edge of the bed, at Roy's feet, and bent forward to write against his legs. **"What is your recipe?"**

Roy gave him the recipe, then held out the empty plate the bread had been on when Edward stood. 

Edward snorted, but took it with a dry, **"Sleep. I will attempt this stew."**

Roy gave him a slightly teasing smile. **"Stay up here if I hear you shouting in foreign languages or throwing things?"** he assumed. 

Edward scowled, but admitted, **"A not unwise course,"** then left the bedroom to try his hand at cooking with a recipe. 

-0-

The stew turned out perfect, according to Roy, and Edward had ducked his head to attempt to hide a flush at the praise. 

When he was ready to turn in that night, Edward found himself faced with the uncertain choice of sleeping next to Roy – who was already passed out – again, and chance his body's odd reactions to the chimera, or find somewhere else to sleep. 

It turned out the softened floor of the training room wasn't a terrible place to sleep, and it was a much shorter path between that room and the outside, in the morning, when he needed to empty his bladder. 

Roy didn't say anything about the change in Edward's sleeping space, assuming he even noticed it. He supplied Edward with at least one new recipe each morning, some of which turned out better than others, and Edward would attempt those, or clean up the bloodied sand, or relieve his frustrations on one of his fighting dummies while Roy slept most of the day away. 

Edward had started keeping track of the days after being surprised by the merchant's visit, so, a couple days before they were due again, he said to Roy, **"The merchant and guards are due soon, and they will notice if there is no dragon."**

Roy threw his thin arms out to either side, showing off his ribs, which were still far too easy to count, even after over a week of filling meals. **"Oh, yes, a most fearsome dragon I'll make, half-starved,"** he snarled, before crossing his arms over his chest. **"Just tell them I'm hunting desert lizards for dinner, or something."**

Edward really didn't want to know how accurate that was, in regards to Roy's diet before he'd taken human form, and he shook the questions away. **"I do not think it will be so bad,"** he offered, because he'd had a lot of time to think about Roy's change of forms, all the rules it had broken, and what had been written about that empty place. 

**"Really,"** Roy replied flatly. 

Edward offered him what he hoped was a reassuring smile. **"I have a theory. If I am wrong, I will tell them you are out hunting."**

Roy frowned at him, but didn't fight as Edward pulled back the light sheets. **"Are you going to tell me this theory of yours?"**

**"If I'm right,"** Edward decided, because he could justify sharing his family's secret if it had bearing on Roy's own life, but he couldn't bring himself to share it just because of a suspicion; the information was far too dangerous to share on a whim. 

Roy let out an irritated huff, but he let Edward pick him up without any further comment, wrapping shaking arms around Edward's neck, as though to ensure he wouldn't go tumbling down the stairs if he let him go. Not that Edward _would_ , but Roy didn't, necessarily, know that. 

Outside, Edward carried Roy over to the far side of the pool of water, then set him down there. **"I am going to move out of the way,"** he offered, unable to keep from brushing some hair away from Roy's eyes, the one part of himself that he kept in both forms. 

Roy shot him a surprised look, but nodded, and Edward quickly stepped back. 

Roy took a deep breath – so obvious on his weakened form – and closed his eyes. Almost immediately, purple energy kicked up around him, growing and brightening so quickly, it hurt to look at. But Edward did his best to squint through it anyway, trying to keep sight of Roy. 

For one, blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment, there was no form – human or dragon – hidden behind the light of the energy, and then Roy-the-dragon was suddenly there, and the energy died away. 

Roy's dragon form looked the same as it had done, gleaming in afternoon sun, save for those two spots on either side, where he'd pulled out his own scales. He twisted his head, looking himself over, and letting out a gravelly sort of noise that could have been confusion. 

"Roy," Edward called, stepping closer to the dragon. 

Roy's head whipped around to stare at him for a moment, so many questions in his familiar black eyes. **"Explain,"** he ordered, sounding rather like a threat, when delivered in that gravelly tone. 

Edward sighed and nodded. **"Come over by the tower; it is not so comfortable for me to be out in the sun."**

Roy huffed out a cloud of smoke, but nodded, and they made their way across the oasis. 

Edward sat cross-legged inside the ground floor of the tower, far enough back that the sun shouldn't threaten him as it crept across the sky, while Roy stretched out on his belly between palm trees, the tip of his snout resting just outside the tower, and Edward assumed the cooling arrays carved into the doorway weren't particularly comfortable for a dragon who breathed fire. 

Edward rubbed his fingers together, uncertain how to explain. He sighed after a moment, figuring the beginning was his best option, like people always seemed to say, so he explained, **"Four hundred years ago, the king of Xerxes feared dying so much, he looked to alchemy to make him immortal. All of his best alchemists put their heads together, and they came up with an array. We...have no record of that array, so I cannot tell you if it was flawed, but it did not work. What it did was steal away the souls of the king, most of his ministers, and all of the alchemists involved."**

Roy let out a startled snort, and a large cloud of black smoke came out of his nostrils, while what looked suspiciously like fire lit behind his lips. 

Edward managed a tight smile. **"Yes. The king's only son had warned his father against such actions, and he was one of the few in the room who survived. His wife was also there, by the king's order, that they might see his victory. Instead, they saw his doom, and the unborn child..."** Edward frowned, looking down at his hands. **"It is uncertain, some, what truly happened, but that child, Rahman, was born with perfect knowledge of alchemy, though there had been no alchemical talent in the royal family before him. He was the strongest alchemist Xerxes had ever seen, and it is a talent that has not lessened as it has passed through my family, even when a non-alchemist marries into the line.**

**"The knowledge for how to perform arrays internally is one of the things King Rahman was born knowing how to do. It is a secret he passed to some friends in their youth, and it killed each of them, so it has been since kept a secret of my family, for it is a dangerous ability, both to the alchemist, and for any they might fight against."**

**"Then you would be in danger, too,"** Roy rumbled, something dark in his tone. 

Edward immediately shook his head. **"No. King Rahman believed it was simply that his friends tried to perform alchemy above their level, unaware – or uncaring – that an internal array means any accidents that would simply destroy a normal array, would kill them."**

**"That doesn't mean–!"** Roy snarled, fire sparking between his teeth. 

**" _Shut up_!"** Edward shouted, glaring, and Roy subsided with a huff of dark smoke. Edward glared at him for another moment, until he was certain Roy would _listen_ , then explained, **"I know the dangers. I was not taught the secret until my sixteenth birthday, after I had spent a week proving I had a complete mastery of all of the basic and intermediate arrays, and could easily manage most of the most advanced arrays my people use. If I ever have need to use an array I have never done before, I will draw it out; I have no wish to die through my own stupidity."** He shook his head. **"This secret has been passed through my family for _hundreds of years_ , Roy. We know how to teach it with care."**

Roy let out a grumbling noise and huffed out some pale smoke. **"Fine. What does any of that have to do with me being healthy in this form?"**

Edward took a deep breath and carefully laced his fingers together in his lap. **"King Rahman wrote of an empty world, where only a stone door stood. It opened and taught him everything: the wonderful, and the terrible. He called it the Gateway Between Equivalence and Truth, and proposed that every person with the ability to perform alchemy has one. The only way to reach it, is by performing the forbidden – human transmutation – and sacrificing something of yourself to learn the secrets it holds."**

He took another deep breath and looked up at the dark eyes watching him. **"When you change shape, it looks very much like you are activating an array, but the colour of the discharge is _purple_ , the colour of human transmutation."**

Roy's eyes went wide and he snorted out more dark smoke. **"You're _certain_?"**

**"Yes,"** Edward agreed, barely remembering to keep his voice loud enough that Roy could hear him. **"I theorise that you have now two bodies shared between your soul. One is here, in this world, while the other resides in the empty world, and they switch place when you change forms."**

Roy tilted his head slightly, his eyes gone distant. **"So, it's simply because my human body hasn't been receiving any nutrition for the past two years, that has it so weak."**

Edward flinched at having a firm timeline; while he'd been learning how to translate arrays internally and what various illegal arrays looked like, Roy had been being turned into a chimerae and tortured at the whims of his jailers. 

**"But, if that's true, why hasn't my human body died off?"** Roy asked, focussing on Edward again. **"Ed? Are you okay?"**

Edward swallowed down the taste of bile and forced a smile. **"It is possible there is something about that empty world that keeps your unused body alive. Or your soul's connection is keeping it alive, despite the lack of proper nutrients."** He frowned for a moment in thought, then added, **"It is also possible that just enough nutrients are passed on to keep the unused body alive."** He shook his head. **"I do not have King Rahman's absolute knowledge; all I can do is theorise."**

Roy's snout bumped into him, and Edward couldn't quite bite back a startled noise. **"That's more than I could do,"** he offered. **"What's wrong?"**

Edward opened his mouth to tell him it was nothing, but he looked up into Roy's eyes – so _concerned_ – and couldn't make himself lie. So he swallowed and reached out to rest one gentle hand between Roy's nostrils. **"I just...had not realised how long you were there. Being–"** He shook his head, couldn't vocalise it. 

Roy didn't respond for a long moment, his nostrils barely drawing in air as Edward absently stroked the fine scales between them. 

Eventually, though, he withdrew, saying, **"Come out here."**

Edward frowned. **"Why?"**

Roy huffed out pale smoke. **"Because I'm asking? Come on. I want to show you something."**

Still frowning a bit, Edward got up and walked out to him. Almost as soon as he cleared the doorway, Roy reached out with one claw and picked him up. **"Put me down!"** he ordered, grabbing for one of Roy's fingers to hold on tight. 

Roy rumbled a laugh and held Edward up to his shoulders, loosening his fingers so Edward could easily get free. **"Climb on,"** he directed. 

Edward muttered some uncomplimentary things under his breath, but vaulted out of Roy's hold and onto his back. 

**"Hold on tight,"** Roy warned, and Edward grabbed for the frill that ran down his spine. Almost as soon as he had a reasonable grip, Roy crouched down, then jumped up into the air, his wings giving one hard beat, then another, and then they were above the wall, desert stretching out in all directions around them. 

"Fucking _wow_ ," Edward breathed, staring around in awe as Roy turned in the air with an easy sweep of his wings, flying over the wall and out into the open desert. 

They rose quickly, over the hot sand, spiralling lazily upward, and Edward couldn't help but let out a delighted laugh at this taste of freedom. 

**"Holding on?"** Roy called back when Edward's prison was so far below them, he could hide it with his foot, could see what looked like the outer wall of Persepolis far to the north, and other signs of small towns scattered well away from Edward's little prison. 

Edward tightened his grip in Roy's frill and shouted back, **"Yes!"**

**"Good,"** Roy said, and that was the only warning Edward had before he folded his wings back, and they were suddenly freefalling. 

Edward might have screamed a little bit as the ground approached _way_ too fast, but then Roy's wings snapped open, and they were going horizontal, rather than vertical, racing over sand dunes, going way faster than Edward ever had in his life. 

It was _amazing_ , seeing the world pass by so easily, no grip on him, save the wind buffeting his face and sending his long hair streaming out behind him. Every bit the freedom Edward had always dreamed of, and he laughed as he let go of Roy's frill to hug him around the neck as much as he could. 

Roy slowed eventually, letting the thermals from the hot sand lift them high up into the air again. 

Ahead of them, the familiar yellow of the desert turned into shades of brown and green, sparkling blue rivers and lakes dotting the landscape, while pockets of black and shades of brown and green marked human settlements. Child of the desert that he was, Edward had to blink a few times, unable to believe what he was seeing. 

_Amestris_ , he realised, staring wide-eyed at the veritable paradise of life stretching out ahead of him. 

It was a beautiful country, and Edward couldn't, for the life of him, understand how Führer Bradley was so blind to what he already had; didn't he know that his country was _already_ great? They had so much, all without having to abuse alchemy to pull up water from deep in the sand. They didn't have to struggle to grow crops, or feed animals. Feed their own _people_ , even. They had trees aplenty for that precious paper that Edward's people had to pay so dearly for. 

He squeezed his eyes shut and hid his face against Roy's neck, hating Amestris' leader so much it _hurt_. The man had _everything_ , but instead of being happy with his bounty and finding pleasure in trading with his neighbours, he murdered and tortured his own people, made war with anyone willing to pick up arms against him. 

Roy turned, and Edward opened his eyes to take in the wide-open Great Xerxes Desert stretching into the distance all around them. This was _his_ home. The landscape was barren and cruel, took far more than they had to give, but her people were kind, sharing what they had with their neighbours, because they knew what it meant to trudge along with empty bellies. (Even Edward, though it had been many years since the last time the clan wars in Xing had made the trade routes impassable, and Van had been forced to ration their precious stores of emergency food for _everyone_ , so the greatest number of their people could survive the food shortage.) 

For the first time Edward could remember, the weight of his title felt bearable. He still didn't want it – he wasn't suited to a life of sitting on a throne and deciding the fate of an entire country based on what his ministers wanted him to know – but it didn't feel quite so much like he would be crushed under it any more. 

As a tiny speck that eventually resolved itself into Edward's prison approached, Roy started to lose altitude, until they were just high enough to skim over the top of the wall. 

They'd lost the rest of the afternoon and a portion of the evening, Edward realised as the sun vanished behind the walls when Roy landed. It hadn't been a terrible way to waste the day, certainly far more fun than he usually had, and, as Roy's wings folded back against his back, he called, **"Thank you."**

Roy twisted to look back at him, even as he raised a foreclaw for Edward to step into. **"It's not so terrible, being like this,"** he offered as Edward switched over to the waiting claw, wincing at the way his body complained about the unfamiliar position he'd held for hours. 

No, Edward didn't suppose it was; if he had wings, he'd take to the sky and never come down again, probably. Fly until he saw something interesting, at least, and then settle down just long enough to explore it, before he was in the sky again, flying forever, no one depending on him. 

Once he was back on the ground, Edward grimaced as he went through some of the stretches he'd been taught as a child, to help with the aches from a long day's travel by camel. 

Purple light flashed, and Edward squinted at it, watching as Roy-the-dragon vanished. When the light died, Roy-the-human was left lying in the middle of the sand, his eyes closed. 

"Roy?" Edward called as he approached the man. 

**"Figured this body needed food more than that one,"** Roy said tiredly. 

**"Likely,"** Edward admitted as he knelt next to Roy and carefully picked him up. **"But you should see about getting food for that body tomorrow, probably; I assume my father set something up?"**

Roy snorted against Edward's collarbone. **"No, but it doesn't take me long to reach forested land. Xing?"**

**"If it is not Amestris, Xing would be our next closest neighbour,"** Edward agreed, smiling a bit in amusement. 

Roy huffed. **"Excuse me for not being familiar with your eastern border,"** he muttered. 

Edward laughed outright at that. Then, as he approached the stairs, asked, **"Do you want to eat in the kitchen? There is an actual table in there."**

Roy laughed, that time, then agreed, **"Certainly. Maybe I'll even see the rest of this tower, eventually."**

**"There is not much,"** Edward offered as he stepped off onto the kitchen level and made for the chair at the table to set Roy down. **"One floor up is the library, with the most tedious books–"**

**"Really?"** Roy asked, interest gleaming in his eyes. **"What sort of books does Xerxes' heir find tedious?"**

Edward shot him a flat look, but answered, **"The absolutely most basic alchemy books, lots of law books, some on the duties of the nobility, some few on the duties of the royal family, a couple treatises former Xerxesian kings have written on what it's like being the ruler–"**

**"Spare me the rest,"** Roy pleaded, while his forehead hit the table with a dull 'thunk'. **"King Van really _is_ aiming to bore you to death."**

**"I did say,"** Edward pointed out as he set about cooking them one of Roy's recipes. **"Nothing about this was designed with my comfort in mind; his only intention was to have me return home as the son he wishes me to be."** He sighed, then shook his head. **"Above the library is the bedroom, which you are very much familiar with, now."**

**"Quite,"** Roy agreed, something a little odd about his voice. 

Edward frowned, but when he glanced at Roy, he found him frowning at the table top, like he was maybe worrying over something. Rather than asking after it, Edward turned back to the food and said, **"The ground floor you have also seen. Below that is a room with weapons and training dummies and such–"**

**"Wait,"** Roy interrupted, sounding surprised, **"you father gave you a _training room_? How is _that_ supposed to help with boring you to death?"**

Edward snorted. **"It is not,"** he admitted. He knew his father well enough, however, to explain, **"If I am to return as crown prince, I cannot look as though I have been laying around in a dungeon, unable to exercise, for however many months my stubbornness holds out. So he has left me a way to have sun and be clean, food to eat, and a place to keep my skills up. There is also a chemistry lab, on the lowest level, but there is very little in the way of useful chemicals to work with, and I do not think the merchant will carry any, so it is a limited supply."**

"Hm." 

Edward frowned and focussed on the food for a bit longer, before finally sighing into the heavy silence and asking, **"What is it?"**

**"Are you going back?"**

**"Going back?"** Edward repeated, uncertain what that meant. He turned to frown at Roy. 

Roy's dark eyes were intent in a way Edward didn't quite understand. **"With King Van. Are you going back to being Crown Prince Edward?"**

Something in Edward's chest ached, and he rubbed it a bit absently as he turned back toward the cooking food with a frown. Should he tell Roy the truth? What would he say if Edward admitted he didn't have any intention in returning to Persepolis? That, as soon as they finished rescuing Roy's friends, he was going to run and lose himself in Amestris as quickly as he could. 

"Ed?" 

**"Does it matter?"** Edward asked, doing his best to sound like he didn't care. **"It will not affect you; once your friends are free, there will be no cause for you to stick around."**

Roy was silent for a moment, as Edward stirred the food, before asking, **"Do you always use that tone when you're pushing people away?"**

Edward fumbled the spoon, and the clatter as it hit the floor was loud in the silence following Roy's words. He swallowed, dare not turn around as he carefully replied, **"I do not know what you mean."**

Roy was silent as Edward crouched down to retrieve the spoon, dusted it off, and finished the food. When he turned to move everything over to the table, he found Roy watching him, his dark eyes far too intelligent, and Edward almost dropped the pot before he made it to the table. 

**"Stop staring and eat,"** Edward ordered, motioning toward where he always left the dishes and utensils at the end of the table after cleaning them outside, easily in reach for Roy. Then he turned to find the extra chair that he'd made out of the old tower door, just in case they ever needed a second one for a meal. 

Roy ate his food quietly for about three mouthfuls, before swallowing and saying, **"You're afraid I'm going to drag you back to your father."**

Edward frowned at him over his own food. **"I did not say that,"** he insisted, because he couldn't think of anything better when Roy was watching him so closely. 

**"You didn't have to,"** Roy returned, shrugging. **"What are you intending? Help me free Maes and Riza, then hide in Amestris until someone recognises you?"**

His flinch was very likely sufficient answer to that. 

Roy sighed and set his spoon down. **"Ed, I told you; you're my treasure–"**

**" _Stop calling me that_!"** Edward shouted, banging his fists on the table and making both their bowls jump. **"I am not a fucking pile of gold or jewels! I am just a fucking _disappointment_! All I have ever done is upset the whole fucking court and run the fuck away! I am a useless pile of _shit_!"**

Roy's hands were suddenly wrapped tight around his wrists, his arms shaking with the effort, but his grip as impossible to break as Xerxesian shackles. **"Bullshit,"** Roy said, his voice firm and quiet, while Edward was still trying to get his breathing under control from all his yelling. **"So what if you're not the son your father wanted? That doesn't make you useless, or a disappointment. Not to me. You were willing to give up _everything_ for me, a chimera, everything you've been taught to hate. But you don't hate me, you've been nothing but kind to me since finding out, and that, Ed, makes you _beautiful_. Golden and shining; a different sort of treasure for a different sort of dragon."**

Edward couldn't stop staring at him, face on fire and something in his chest doing the latter half of a fucking yalli. There was something he should be doing. With his mouth. Yelling, probably. Some insults. _Lots_ of insults. 

_'I want to kiss him.'_

That thought shocked Edward out of his stillness, and he yanked his wrists from Roy's grip, stammered out a, **"Y-you ar-e an i-idiot!"**

And then he ran from the kitchen, because he had a lot of practise with running away. 

He made it to the training room, then collapsed onto the softened floor, face hidden in his hands and hating how hot it was. Hating his brain and the weird shit Roy kept making it do. _How_?!

Oh, hells, if Jean could only see him, he'd have a fucking field day teasing Edward. Heymans would be right there with him, adding to Edward's embarrassment, while Alphonse stood nearby and tried to pretend he wasn't there, in fear of being dragged into it. 

(He had the _worst_ friends. If you could really call the two guards who had been following him and Alphonse around since they were old enough to find ways to sneak out of the palace 'friends'. Not that he could really be picky; being crown prince meant there weren't many people who he might call 'friend' who weren't sticking around in hopes of getting something out of it. At least he'd always known Jean and Heymans had been around because they'd been ordered to follow them.) 

After he was done teasing Edward, though, he'd probably nudge Heymans with a pointed look, and Heymans would stop grinning for a minute and actually give Edward some useful advice. What was it he'd he said to Alphonse when he'd had his crush on that one courtier's daughter? 

_'You're only young once, Your Highness, and everyone, no matter how royal their blood, should be allowed to have at least_ one _kiss before they tie themselves down in a political marriage.'_ Or something like that. (Followed by a smart remark from Jean about how everyone but _Edward_ should have a kiss, since he'd taken to joking about Edward's lack of interest in sex and the such for whatever reason made sense in his badly bruised brain; Heymans always said he'd just been hit over the head too many times.) 

Edward sighed into his hands. One kiss? And what then? What if Roy pushed him away? 

What if he was no longer Roy's 'treasure'? 

He couldn't quite choke back a helpless laugh. Because, as much as he'd been trying to get Roy to _stop_ calling him that, of _course_ he'd become attached to it. 

"Ed, you moron," he muttered to himself, his native language sounding odd, as much Amestrisan as he'd been speaking with Roy. 

He had two choices, really: He could continue freaking out about this every time Roy got too close, or he could just follow Heymans' advice and kiss Roy, then deal with whatever fallout came after. And if Roy responded by leaving, well. Edward could just walk away without any concerns. He had a general idea of the closest settlement, now, so he could stock up with as much as he could carry, then make his way there, trade for whatever he might need, and leave for Xing. Travel east for a while, until he was far beyond Van and Xerxes' longest reaching fingers. 

He rubbed roughly at his face, then shoved himself up to stand. He took a deep breath, told himself it was better to _know_ than keep wondering like this, and returned to the kitchen. 

Roy was staring morosely into his bowl when Edward stopped on the landing, and he stared at him for a moment, his chest aching at the obvious upset. He didn't _want_ Roy upset, much preferred his pleasure at finding his dragon form healthy, or his laughter as he joked about eventually seeing the rest of the tower. 

What had Roy _done_ to him? 

Edward swallowed, then cleared his throat. 

Roy's head came up and around so fast, Edward honestly feared he'd given himself whiplash. "Ed!" he exclaimed, a complicated rush of emotions crossing his face, before it settled on regret. **"I'm sorry. I know it bothers you, my dragon half. I'll try to keep it to myself, from now on."**

Edward blinked, his chest aching, and shook his head. **"Look, can–?"** How was he supposed to do this? Where was Heymans when he needed advice? **"May I...do something? Please."**

Roy looked a little wary, but nodded all the same. **"Yes?"**

Edward managed a smile, hoped it was more reassuring than it felt, and walked over to Roy's side. And, fuck, he felt so _awkward_ – was this how this shit _always_ felt? He was so glad he'd been missing out, if so – but he still leant down and pressed his mouth against Roy's. 

Roy was so utterly still, it felt _way_ too awkward, too _stiff_ – like that marble statue one of his ancestors had spent a fortune on and installed in the middle of the main courtyard – and Edward pulled back after only a breath, couldn't make himself look to see Roy's expression. **"That is all,"** he said, his court-smile coming easily to his face, even as something in his chest felt like it was falling to pieces. **"Thank you for allowing–"**

Roy's too-tight grip was suddenly on his shoulder, tugging on him with Roy's whole weight, and Edward's hip banged sharply into the corner of the table, but he ignored it, one hand grabbing for the edge, the other reaching for Roy's waist because _why did he keep trying to stand when he was way too weak_?!

And then there was a mouth against his, warm and soft and _alive_. The exact opposite from Edward's awkward try, and he couldn't quite hold back a whimper at how utterly _perfect_ it felt. 

Roy pulled back, breathing hotly against Edward's lips as he whispered, **"I don't understand. The way I look–"**

**"Shut up,"** Edward ordered, because he couldn't begin to explain it himself. 

Roy seemed to take that as an order to press their mouths together again, the hand that wasn't bruising Edward's shoulder coming up to gently cup his cheek. It was a study in contradictions, and it made Edward's knees feel weirdly weak. 

He shifted his grip on the table, braced against it a bit, even as he pulled Roy closer with his other arm, warming all over at the sensation of bare torsos touching. 

He couldn't say who moaned – maybe they both did it at the same time? – but the sound vibrated its way straight down to Edward's misbehaving penis, and he seriously hated its timing. 

Roy laughed against his mouth, and Edward opened his eyes to looked hazily at him. **"Misbehaving fucker,"** he heard himself say. 

Roy laughed outright at that, black eyes shining, and Edward decided it wasn't worth getting embarrassed over what he'd said, far more interested in memorising what Roy looked like when he was so utterly _happy_.

And, fuck, had _Edward_ been the one to make him so happy? That was...mind-boggling. 

**"Yes,"** Roy murmured, smiling and looking at Edward like he was the only thing that mattered in the whole world, **"they tend to do that."**

**"Not mine,"** Edward insisted, facing warming. **"Not before _you_."**

Roy looked surprised for a moment, and then his eyes darkened with something that made Edward's least favourite part of his anatomy utterly _delighted_. **"That,"** Roy murmured, his voice low and distractingly smooth, **"is _fascinating_. I'm almost tempted to suggest some experiments, but I don't think I could bear to share you with anyone else."**

That should _not_ have made Edward feel so warm – he wasn't _property_! – but apparently his body ran on a different sort of logic than his mind, because he _liked_ Roy being possessive. **"Shut up,"** he muttered, partially in fear of Roy saying something that made his body combust. 

Roy's smile had a particular edge to it that was disturbingly attractive for reasons Edward couldn't begin to understand. **"I bet I have enough energy to help you with that, if you want."**

Edward's face was on _fire_ , and his body was extremely interested in letting Roy 'help' him. **"You're supposed to be eating!"** he realised, and his voice only cracked a little bit. 

Roy almost seemed to back off a bit. Or, at least, the heat of his...everything eased a bit, even if he was still standing flush against Edward. The hand on Edward's cheek sort of petted him a bit, and Roy murmured, **"Too much?"**

Edward gulped in a breath that felt a little bit more steadying than any of the air he'd been getting previously. **"Wh-what were you doing?"** he managed somehow. 

Roy's smile had a self-deprecating edge to it as he said, **"Coming on too strong. You are entirely too alluring, I'm afraid."**

**"I do not–"**

**"Don't argue with me,"** Roy interrupted, petting Edward's cheek again. **"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and you are every bit gorgeous to me, my treasure."**

Edward hadn't realised it was possible to feel relieved and irritated for the same reason, but apparently he could when it came to that stupid...label. **"Stop calling me that,"** he complained, only half meaning it, which was _irritating_.

How did Roy keep doing this shit to him?! 

**"Can't help it,"** Roy said, before brushing his lips against Edward's nose, which was weird and a little nice, which made it even _more_ weird. **"Let me sit?"**

...he was still holding Roy, wasn't he? 

He helped Roy sit back down, then returned to his own dinner, feeling way too hot to sit still, but forcing himself to at least finish his bowl, because he'd burnt way too many cooking attempts to take his victories for granted, any more. 

He cleaned up the kitchen while Roy finished a second serving – and it was weirdly reassuring to watch Roy eating so much, even if Ed didn't think it would really help him get his health back any faster – then carried him upstairs. 

As he sat Roy on the bed, one of those too-tight grips wrapped around his wrist, and Edward found himself caught by the simmering heat in Roy's dark eyes. **"Sleep here, tonight,"** Roy ordered, that edge of authority in his voice again. 

Edward swallowed. He'd started sleeping in the training room because he was freaked out about his body's inexplicable reactions – which hadn't really changed, honestly – and he didn't want Roy to catch on – which was clearly a lost cause, now. As much as he wanted to hide back down there again, he also wanted to crawl into bed with Roy, so he nodded. 

Roy smiled and his grip loosened, twisted slightly, and then he was lifting Edward's hand to his mouth and kissing the back of it. 

He was seriously going to combust before the end of this, wasn't he? 

**"Come to bed with me?"** Roy murmured, heat in his eyes as he looked up at Edward through his hair. 

Edward was pretty sure all versions of a refusal had just fled his vocabulary. All of them, in every language he spoke. 

**"Yeah,"** he managed, and freed his hand so he could kick off his trousers, then climb into the other side, brushing his fingers against the array on the nearest alchemical light as he did, which darkened all the ones in the room. 

He didn't even get settled, before Roy was joining him on his side, wrapping his arms around him. And then Roy's mouth was on his, and Edward forgot to be annoyed. Instead, he kissed Roy back as best he could, until Roy pulled away with a quiet laugh and whispered, **"Sleeping, my treasure."**

**"Hate you,"** Edward complained, even as he wrapped his arms back around Roy, curling into his warmth and closing his eyes to sleep. 

-0-

He woke up over-warm again, with an arm weighing on his waist, and he was, thankfully, _not_ confused. A bit irritated, maybe, because his penis was apparently _very excitable_ , but he was starting to resign himself to that unfortunate side-effect of Roy. 

He opened his eyes to stare at his bedmate, mostly just because he could. He thought, maybe, that Roy's face had filled out a little bit more than it had been last time he'd woke up like this, but he couldn't really be certain. 

And then black eyes blinked open, so very clearly not quite awake yet, but Roy's mouth curled with a smile all the same, and he murmured, "Ed." His eyes closed again and he shifted closer, hands tight against Edward's lower back, which was...distracting. Nice, but distracting. Or maybe distracting, but in a really nice way? 

Edward decided it was too much trouble to be awake, so he closed his own eyes, told his troublesome penis to just fucking shut up for a while, and dozed off. 

-0-

The _next_ time he woke, it was to an insistent bladder, and it didn't take too much shoving to free himself from Roy's hold so he could use the little chamber pot he'd alchemised for Roy – since he was sort of stuck in the room unless Edward carried him out – then kicked off his pants and turned to find a clean pair, only to find black eyes watching him. 

Roy very obviously looked him over – Edward's face was hot again, _dammit_ – before giving Edward a slow smile that warmed him in the same way as whatever he'd been doing with all the kissing the night before, and rumbling, **"Good morning, Ed."**

**"Good morning,"** Edward managed, was kind of impressed with how steady his voice came out. **"I am going to change. And then make us breakfast."**

**"If you must,"** Roy agreed with a regretful sigh, his gaze pointedly low. 

Edward's penis seemed to think that was an invitation to something, because it _twitched_ , and Edward realised he needed to get dressed and run like fuck down to the kitchen, before Roy somehow managed to get him back into bed. 

Of course, once breakfast was done, he had to bring that back up. And then eat it in the bed, next to Roy. Who, thankfully, seemed more interested in the food than in Edward. 

Which lasted about as long as the food did, and then Roy's lips were on his, one hand ghosting over his chest. 

Edward had about enough sense to move the remains of their breakfast things off the bed, but then he got completely lost in Roy. His kisses and his touch and the warmth of him against every inch of Edward's skin. 

For the first time in his life, Edward wasted the whole day in bed, and didn't regret it at all. 

-0-

The merchant's visit went smoothly, despite a number of uncertain looks cast up at where Roy-the-dragon was sunning on the roof of the tower, his tail hanging lazily down on one side, and only one black eye opened to watch for any suggestion of a threat to Edward. (There weren't any; they'd worked all that out last time.) 

That said, Roy made a show of waking up and yawning, deadly teeth very obviously on display, as the guards were sealing up the doorway they'd made. Edward shook his head and hid a smile against his first load of supplies to take inside the tower, while Roy jumped off the tower and sailed after the merchant caravan. 

When he got back, he changed back into his human form, and Edward carried him upstairs to the kitchen, where he could give directions in person for his newest recipe, which was actually a bit of a distracting endeavour, because _Roy_ was distracting. 

So attempt number one ended up ruined, Edward swore he wasn't going to let Roy in the kitchen while he was cooking any more, and Roy managed to convince him he was _extremely useful_ , via a lot of kissing and a few hands in places where hands really should not be when they were so close to food. (Roy disagreed. Of course.) 

As it turned out, admitting there was something between them completely ruined both of them for productivity. 

-0-

Two days before Van was due, Edward and Roy finally managed to focus on something other than each other. 

After an hour, the kitchen table was covered in parchment with notes and partial maps, all pulled from Roy's memories of the Amestrisan lab. Roy was clearly still nervous about letting Edward go in alone, but he was too weak to be any use as a human, and too noticeable as a dragon, so that was their only choice. Unless they wanted to wait another month or three in hopes that Roy might be more capable, but both of them were itching to get out of their tower prison; Roy desperately wanted to free his friends before they had to suffer too much longer, and Edward wanted the chimera-dragon project burnt to the ground before they got sent to attack Xerxes. 

Too, Edward had no interest in playing the stubborn son with his father; far more important for him to move on and start training Alphonse to the position, in case Edward and Roy completely fucked up and Amestris took it as an opening gambit for war. 

So, the morning they were expecting Van, Edward dyed his hair black, packed up all the necessities, left a note tacked where his father would be certain to see it, and climbed up onto Roy's back. 

As they turned toward Amestris, Edward was nearly certain he saw a group of people on camels approaching his former prison, and smiled as he turned his head to face forward. 

-0-

> _'Father,_  
>  'Flame and I are going to break out a bunch of dragons from prison, maybe destroy a few really ugly buildings, then he's going to take me to see mountains and snow, and maybe the ocean, eventually.  
> 'I'll consider coming home after you publicly disinherit me, so no one can argue about the line of ascension any more.  
> 'My best to Mother and Al,  
> 'Edward'

-0-

The problem with Roy's dragon form being so obvious, of course, was that they couldn't just fly straight to Amestris' capital. They ended up landing just inside the country borders, near what looked like a bunch of wild horses. Most of them had spooked at the sight of the dragon, but Edward managed to catch two and bring them over to where Roy-the-human was sitting tiredly in the middle of their things. Edward alchemised a saddle for Roy and helped him up onto the horse, then loaded the second one up with their belongings, and started leading them in the direction Roy had pointed out while they were in the sky. 

**"You're not riding?"** Roy asked tiredly, already drooping in his saddle. 

**"I'll ride in a bit,"** Edward lied, because he wanted to be able to walk next to Roy, in case he fell off the horse in his sleep. Also, someone needed to guide Roy's horse, and Edward wasn't comfortable enough with horses to ride one while guiding another. 

Roy did in fact fall asleep on the horse, and almost fell off twice before they reached the train station. 

Edward had to trade some of the food they'd brought for tickets, but he'd sort of expected that, if he was being honest, and being able to take the train into the capital was a lot more important than having the extra food, especially with Roy still as weak as he was. 

**"I feel like I'm failing,"** Roy complained once they were on the train, his head on Edward's shoulder. 

Edward let off looking around in awe – there was a railroad through the desert, connecting Amestris, Xerxes, and Xing, but he'd never been able to ride it anywhere – to shoot Roy a frown. **"Why?"**

**"My treasure is protecting me."**

**"You are an idiot,"** Edward informed him, only flushing a little bit. 

Roy muffled an amused noise against Edward's shoulder, and fell asleep there shortly after. 

Edward sighed and kissed the top of his idiot chimera's head, then turned to watch out the window at the passing green. 

-0-

As it turned out, Roy had a couple safe houses in Central City that he could stay in while Edward was trying to find his way into the lab, but he wasn't certain about how secure they'd be. So Edward had left him in an alley with most of their things, alchemising the opening closed behind him, then made his way to the first one Roy had on his list, which was apparently a pub in a less-than-acceptable area of town. He saw a couple shady people eyeing him as he walked along, but no one tried to stop him, and Edward couldn't tell if it was because of the akinakes hanging off his belt – really more of a decorative accessory of the Xerxesian nobility, honestly, but no one in Amestris would know that, and Edward had sharpened his so it was very much a weapon capable of drawing blood – or something about the way he carried himself. 

The pub was a cramped affair, with a lot of dark corners. A heavyset woman was standing behind the bar, wiping at a glass with a cloth, and she said, **"We're closed,"** when he stepped inside. 

Edward frowned at that, because the door _had_ been unlocked, then shrugged it away and said, **"Rosaline sent me for the madam."**

The woman looked up at him, her dark eyes so like Roy's, Edward suspected there was a relation. **"Rosaline is dead,"** she said flatly, and it was only because Edward knew Roy's eyes so well, that he saw the flash of grief in hers. 

**"She is not,"** he promised quietly, and it was really quite disconcerting to be referring to Roy as a _woman_ , but it wasn't a terrible cover, he supposed. **"Amestris had other plans for her disappearance."**

The woman stared at him for a moment, before setting the glass down on the bar with a 'click'. **"Where is she?"**

Edward shook his head. **"How secure is this place?"**

The woman narrowed her eyes and gave him a long glance, her eyes fairly obviously catching on his akinakes. **"Secure."**

**"No dogs sniffing around?"** Edward pressed, because no fucking way he was going to bring Roy into a trap. 

The woman crossed her arms over her chest. **"Is Rosaline in trouble?"**

Edward just stared at her, because the fact that Roy was free, instead of in the Amestris military's clutches, and had sent someone else to check his safe houses for him made it _pretty_ clear he was in trouble, in his opinion. 

The woman finally got that she wasn't going to frown him into speaking, because she sighed and shook her head. **"Not in at least a year. But you'd still best bring her in the back."**

**"Show me,"** Edward requested, and she motioned for him to come around the bar and follow her into the back of the pub, which turned out to be a kitchen. 

There was a tired-looking woman working back there, scrubbing listlessly at dishes. As soon as the bartender cleared her throat, though, the dish-washer straightened and pasted a smile on her face that looked surprisingly convincing. **"Grace,"** the bartender said, not reacting to the change in expression, **"go with this young man so he can find his way back in the back way with our stray."**

The dish-washer, Grace, blinked at Edward. **"Stray?"** she repeated. 

**"I do not need a guide,"** Edward said flatly, because he didn't need a second person around while he was trying to manage Roy. 

The dark-eyed woman shot him a hard stare. **"That secure in navigating our street, foreigner?"** she returned. 

Edward couldn't quite stop a grimace, because Roy had been able to give him exact directions to the pub, and he believed he could find his way back fine by retracing his steps, but the architecture of Amestris was alien, and it wasn't impossible he'd end up lost on his way back. Especially if this 'back way' was unfamiliar to Roy, or he dozed off en route. **"Fine,"** he muttered. 

**"Go,"** the bartender ordered, waving toward a door leading out of the room. 

Grace sighed and nodded, undoing the apron she was wearing and setting it aside, then took the lead out of the building. Once out on the dirty streets of Amestris, she asked, **"Where is this stray?"**

Edward looked around at the unfamiliar street, did some quick mental figuring based on his trip through the pub, and said, **"This way,"** as he set off in the same direction he'd originally come from. 

It wasn't too hard for him to meet back up with his original path, and finding the walled-up alley, from there, wasn't much harder. 

Recalling his promise to stick to drawn arrays as much as possible, to lessen the chance that someone would recognise him for who he was, Edward quickly sketched the necessary array on the wall with the chalk he'd shoved in a pocket during their preparations to flee his prison, then pressed his fingers against it. 

The wall melted away, revealing the alley, Roy, and their things. Almost immediately, Grace let out a gasp and breathed, " _Roy_?"

Roy's eyes – which had been looking at Edward when the wall vanished – turned to the woman and widened. "Gracia!" he whispered back, surprise and relief painting his expression. **"What are you doing here?"**

**"I– Some women came to get me, right before the arrest announcements, using Maes' emergency phrase. Elicia and I have been staying with your aunt; I didn't have anywhere else to go, after–"** Grace – _Gracia_ ; Grace had apparently been a code name, like Rosaline – broke off with a choked noise and looked away. 

'Maes' was one of Roy's friends, Ed knew, and Roy _had_ mentioned something about him having a wife and daughter he'd hoped had got away. This was probably the wife, then, and while she hadn't fled the city, it appeared she'd found a safe place to lay low. And the heavyset bartender was probably Roy's aunt, given their similar eyes; nice to have that relationship connected. 

Roy frowned at Edward, uncertainty in his eyes. **"Did the madam say anything about dogs?"** he asked. 

Edward nodded. **"Not in the past year. You are afraid they have been keeping eyes on people they can use to control you?"**

Roy nodded grimly. 

**"Roy,"** the woman said, sounding hopeful, **"they said you were dead. Is Maes–?"**

**"Maes was alive the last time I saw him,"** Roy promised, before shaking his head. **"We can talk more at the madam's. Ed?"** He held out a hand toward Edward. 

Edward sighed, but obediently walked over and knelt in front of Roy, helping him onto his back. 

**"What happened to you?"** the woman whispered, her eyes wide and horrified when Edward looked at her as he stood. 

**"It's complicated,"** Roy offered, his hands gripping tight to Edward's shoulders. **"We need to move, right now."**

**"Can you help carry some of the bags?"** Edward requested as he checked Roy was settled and his hood was pulled forward enough to completely shadow his face. 

**"Yes, of course,"** she agreed, sounding a little distant. But she still helped collect all of the bags, then led them unerringly through the dirty streets to the back entrance of the pub. 

They were greeted in the kitchen by Roy's aunt and two other women. As soon as the door had closed behind them, Roy brushed his hood back and false-cheerfully offered, **"Sorry I didn't call ahead, Auntie Chris."**

The bartender and the two new women's eyes all widened, clearly shocked, and Edward knew it was probably due to the thinness of Roy's face. But there was relief in their eyes, too, and Edward relaxed a bit at that; these people would take care of Roy while he found his way into the lab. 

**"Some things,"** Roy's aunt said with a strained smile, **"never change. What trouble have you brought with you this time?"**

**"Oh, just some illegal experimentation the military has condoned,"** Roy replied, still in that false-cheerful tone. 

Gracia let out a broken noise, while Chris' expression tightened, and the two newer women both looked away. 

Edward snorted. **"I should find my way now, while there is still some sunlight,"** he interrupted. **"You may play your word games without me."**

**"We _do_ have streetlights in Amestris, Ed,"** Roy teased. 

Edward scoffed, because he wasn't particularly fond of the harsh light the Amestrisan electric lighting put out. Which he'd told Roy while they were on the train. **"You can take your fucking streetlights and–"**

Roy laughed and kissed his ear, derailing Edward slightly. **"Okay. I need to be on the roof,"** he said to the rest of the room. 

**"The roof,"** Chris repeated flatly. 

Roy's chest expanded against Edward's back as he took a deep breath, then got out in a rush, **"I'm a chimera, Auntie. I need to be on the roof to change."**

There followed a silence heavy with horror, during which Roy shrank a bit against Edward's back, his too-tight grip leaving bruises all along Edward's clavicle. 

Finally, all-too-aware of the time he was losing, Edward straightened and snapped, **"The roof, if you please. I do not intend to stand here all night while you sort out your emotional states."** He slung a narrow look at Gracia, who had tears in her eyes. **"Your husband is still in there."**

_That_ snapped them into motion, and Edward was very shortly depositing Roy on the dirty roof, muttering disparaging things about how filthy Amestris was under his breath. 

**"Stop that,"** Roy murmured, grabbing Edward's wrist before he could get away. **"Come here for a minute."**

**"I am losing sunlight,"** Edward reminded him, but still knelt next to the chimera. 

Roy cupped his cheek, his eyes troubled. **"Promise me you'll be okay,"** he whispered. 

Edward bit back a sigh, resigned to Roy's overprotectiveness. **"I have been sneaking past guards since I was a boy; I will be _fine_. And if I run into trouble, I need only make it to my embassy."** Because the line of national embassies wasn't far from the lab, according to Roy's knowledge of the city. 

Roy grimaced. **"And they'll deport you as soon as they recognise you,"** he muttered. 

Edward rolled his eyes. **"You leave managing my people to me."** He brushed a hand through Roy's hair, which was a lot less fun after Roy'd made him cut it, but it was still plenty soft, and Roy's eyes slid shut at the touch, leaning into it. **"If something happens, do not worry about me, just get out."**

Roy opened his eyes just enough to give him a narrow glare. **"If you think I'm going to–"**

**"You are a wanted criminal,"** Edward reminded him flatly, and Roy looked away with a frown. **"I am not yet in their sights. Stop being stupid and overprotective; I can take care of myself."**

**"This isn't Persepolis,"** Roy reminded him grumpily. 

**"What would you know about Persepolis?"** Edward asked, amused, and Roy glowered at him, clearly unamused. Edward rolled his eyes and kissed the irritable chimera. **"I will come back, Roy,"** he promised. 

**"I'll burn the whole city down if you don't,"** Roy growled, his too-strong grip tugging on the back of Edward's neck. 

**"Will not,"** Edward murmured, but didn't resist the pull, let himself get lost in Roy's kiss for a moment. 

Someone cleared their throat in a rather pointed manner, and the upward turn of Roy's mouth as he released Edward said he'd been expecting that. 

Edward huffed against his chimera's mouth, nipped his lower lip, then ducked out of Roy's grip before he could pull him back in. 

As he stood, Edward caught sight of Roy's aunt watching them with one eyebrow raised, while the two women he didn't know wore wide, knowing smiles. He felt his face heating, mentally cursed Roy, and stalked over to the pile of their things to pull out his dark grey desert cloak, a handgun and some extra ammunition – not his favourite weapon, but he'd been trained to use it, and Roy had insisted – and the two flares he'd alchemised before they left Xerxes, to set off once he'd destroyed the Amestrisan's machine, letting Roy know it was safe for him to come. 

**"Peggy, show Ed back downstairs,"** Roy called as Edward straightened. **"And find Gracia on your way back up; I need to talk to her."**

**"Sure thing, Roy,"** one of the two waiting women, the blonde, agreed, before crooking a finger at Edward. **"Come on, little lover."**

Edward snorted, but didn't bother debating proper form of address as he followed her back down to the street. She was willing to give him some quick directions back to an area he was sure he could find his way from, then vanished back into the pub while Edward started off. 

He got some odd looks, but no one approached him, and he did his best to look certain of where he was going. 

The laboratory he wanted was fairly obvious; it was a blocky sort of building, painted dull grey, while the other buildings around it were mostly red brick. It lacked the multitude of windows that seemed to dominate Amestris' buildings, and was surrounded by a tall fence made of flat stakes of black metal. Steel, most likely, knowing how much Amestris loved using it. They were spaced apart just enough that Edward could probably stick a hand between the stakes, but he wouldn't be able to squeeze through, and they lacked any helpful hand- or foot-holds. 

He circled the building as unobtrusively as he could manage, which got easier as the sun started to sink below the tall buildings, giving him plenty of shadows to hide in. There only seemed to be one guard post, and while there were some impressive, thick bushes hiding the grounds, Edward didn't notice any signs of guard patrols inside the fence. Which, well, given the lack of windows, meant there was probably only the one entrance, which was in clear view of the guard post. 

Edward hadn't honestly expected for it to be easy to get in, but he still ground his teeth a bit at how complicated it was looking to be. 

And then, through the barrier of bushes, near the back of the building, he heard the sound of Amestrisan metal door latches opening, then caught sight of a glow of fire. 

Someone taking a cigarette break? 

Edward didn't bother hiding the wide smile that spread across his face as he hurried back around the nearest corner, where another building cast a long shadow over the fence, and the stone pillar acting as the fence's corner gave him just enough purchase – used to scaling smooth sandstone walls during his attempts at running away – that he could climb on top of it. The bushes were a bit wider than he was comfortable jumping, honestly, but he'd never be able to get through them silently, so he took a deep breath, then threw himself over them, ducking into a roll as he hit the grass on the other side. 

The grass was a lot kinder than sand, unsurprisingly, and Edward allowed a quiet, relieved breath when nothing felt broken or sprained. A few bruises, but he'd never been one to worry about those, so he got up and made his way back toward where he'd seen the glow through the bushes, keeping as low to the ground as he could, to minimise the chance of someone noticing him. (Another thing that was easier with vegetation; there wasn't really a good way to hide against the differing shades of the sand and sky, out in the desert, even in the dark.) 

The smoker was still standing there, staring up at the sky with his cigarette held loosely in one hand, the white coat Amestrisans insisted workers wore in their laboratories and hospitals hanging around him. A door – likely indistinguishable against the grey walls when closed, and impossible to open, as there was no handle – was propped open with a clipboard between the man and Edward. 

Edward had a brief thought to just knock the man out, but then he remembered watching Roy pull his own scales out, and blood staining the sand as he tried so desperately to remove the piece of metal that had been shoved inside him in an attempt to keep him from changing forms. 

His akinakes was in his hand in a heartbeat, and Edward rushed forward, impaling the man on the blade. 

**"Wha–?"** the man gasped, before Edward changed his grip, twisting his blade to point up, and stabbed into his heart. 

He smothered the cigarette under one foot while he wiped his akinakes off on the white of the man's coat. Then he stepped past him and into the building, tossing the clipboard over his shoulder carelessly. 

Roy's knowledge of the insides of the building had been sketchy, at best, but he had been certain that the chimera-dragons were caged at the top of the building, with massive doors in the roof allowing them up and out, so they didn't have to be carted through the much narrower hallways he'd remembered in the lower levels. He hadn't been able to guess exactly what the electrical charge machine would look like, but he'd been certain it was in the building. 

So Edward just...systematically went through every room he came across and alchemised any weird little steel contraptions onto useless piles of their base materials. (Which was an interesting study into Amestrisan machinery, and Edward actually sort of wished he could take the things apart by hand, figure out how everything fit together and how it ran. Some other time.) 

The ground floor was eerily empty, and the first floor only had three people, none of whom discovered any of the others before Edward had killed the last of them. 

A soldier spotted him on the second floor, calling out, **"Who the hell are you?!"** as he reached for his handgun. 

There was no way Edward could reach him with his akinakes before the soldier could shoot him, and the man had a head start on drawing his gun. So Edward went for his next best weapon: He clapped his hands together, then swept one hand along the wall next to him, sending a hail of sparking concrete chunks at the soldier, while the wall let out an unsteady groan. 

Edward stopped to eye the wall for a moment, while the soldier went down, before shrugging it off and stepping over the scattering of concrete to slit the soldier's throat, ensuring he wouldn't be getting up again. 

Someone screamed, and Edward looked up in time to watch a white coat vanish around the corner. 

"Fuck," he muttered, wiping the bloodied tip of his blade off on the soldier's uniform. He drew his own gun, made a face at it, then started after the person who'd fled. 

Two corners later, he found himself faced with a line of five soldiers, and barely managed to throw himself back around the corner before they opened fire, peppering the wall just past him with bullet holes. 

They stopped after a moment – likely needing to reload – and a male voice filled with authority called, **"Reinforcements are already blocking off the lower levels. Don't throw away your life; surrender now."**

Edward smiled grimly at that – he was hardly fool enough to believe he would survive a capture in one piece, surrender or no – and slipped his gun away, then pressed his hands together around the handle of his akinakes. And then, because it amused him to do so, he slipped the blade of his akinakes around the corner. 

**"Hold your fire!"** the man who had spoken called, and Edward expected it was at least half an attempt to get him to trust them, so he would round the corner and they could shoot him. 

He used his akinakes to point down, at the floor, then knelt and pressed his free hand to the concrete, while someone around the corner let out a confused noise. 

Alchemic light sparked across the floor, and someone shouted, **"Alchemist!"** just before the floor caved in under the group. 

The noise was nearly deafening, people shouting and concrete and steel clattering and shattering against each other. In fact, it sounded a bit like more than just one little section of floor had broken. 

The entire building shuddered, and Edward scuttled back as a bit more of the floor broke off, too close to comfort. 

"I may have misjudged that," he muttered in Xerxesian. Although, _really_. Who put _metal rods_ in a crosshatch across their floors? If you needed that much extra stability, stop using such heavy materials! Or stop building things so ridiculously tall! 

(Or, more importantly, stop turning human beings into dragons and keeping them at the top of a building. Fuck's sake.) 

Edward chanced a glance down the hole he'd made, grimacing a bit to discover he'd taken out part of the wall and the floor on the first floor. There was likely additional damage on the ground floor, and he whispered a, "Whoops," then pressed his hands together and touched them to the floor, closing his eyes so he could focus on repairing the damage enough that he could walk around the corner without fearing the floor would cave in again. 

He knocked the blade of his akinakes against the floor once it was repaired, nodded at the solid ring, then got up and stepped around the corner. 

A gunshot rang out, and a line of fire bloomed along Edward's left cheek and the outer rim of his ear. 

Edward narrowed his eyes at the woman standing just inside a door a bit of the way down, a gun held in shaking hands. She was wearing one of the lab coats, which would have made him dislike her even if she _hadn't_ shot him. **"Drop it,"** he ordered, mostly because she didn't look like she had the strength to shoot it again. 

Indeed, the gun clattered to the floor at her feet, and she threw up her hands in a show of surrender, tears starting to run down her cheeks. **"Please! I don't want to die!"**

Edward stalked forward and kicked the gun down the hall, out of her reach, while he considered that. He didn't much care for killing women who had surrendered, even if she _had_ shot him, and if she could lead him to that electrical charge machine... 

**"The electrical charge you use on the chimerae, where is the control?"** he demanded. 

**"One floor up,"** she said quickly, her eyes wide and terrified as she stared at his akinakes, rather than his face. **"I can take you right to it!"**

She could be leading him into a trap, more soldiers, but there were soldiers making their way up, which meant Edward was running short on time. So, deciding to take a chance, he drew his gun again, then motioned for her to lead with his akinakes, since she seemed rather afraid of it. **"Walk,"** he ordered. 

He had to shoot two men in white coats – one on that floor, one on the next – when they thought rushing them would save Edward's captive, who tried pleading for them to run away. 

If there was anyone else on those floors, they wisely stayed hidden as Edward passed, and the room the woman led him to was empty, save for the massive piece of shining steel taking up one wall. 

**"That's it,"** she whispered. **"Please let me go."**

Edward shot her a flat look as he holstered his gun again. **"They will shoot you on your way down,"** he said flatly, though it was just a guess. With his hood pulled over his dyed hair and shadowing his face, it was unlikely anyone had got a good enough description to pass on, which meant the reinforcements were unlikely to let anyone out alive unless they recognised them, or they'd verified Edward was dead; that was the system in the Xerxesian palace, at least. 

The woman gasped out a sob and sank to the ground. 

Edward grabbed up a clipboard with partially used paper and a pen on it as he sheathed his akinakes, then quickly sketched the array he'd been using on the machines downstairs. He tore the paper off the clipboard and tossed that and the pen off to the side, then pressed the paper against the side of the machine, fingers brushing the array. 

**"What are you–?!"** the woman shouted, right before the machine fell to pieces. **"Are you _insane_?! Now we can't control those monsters!"**

Edward shot her a cold look as he drew his akinakes again. **"You should not be defiling the natural order,"** he said flatly, and she flinched and looked away. **"Stand. I need an outside wall."**

She opened her mouth, paused and stared at the sharp blade of his akinakes for a moment, then closed her mouth and stood without a word of complaint. 

She led him to another room, pointing at the far wall, and Edward repurposed the array he'd used on the machine to make a hole in it, then lit one of the flares, throwing it as far up and away from the building as he could, then hurrying back across the room and dragging the woman down to huddle there just before the sky outside the hole exploded into light, a back-draft of air buffeting his cloak. 

**"What was that?"** the woman asked as Edward stood and walked back to the hole, listening. 

From only a slight distance, he heard Roy's roar and allowed a vicious smile as he turned back to the woman and said, **" _My_ reinforcements. Show me to the room with the dragons."**

Her eyes went wide, then, clearly understanding. " _Mustang_ ," she snarled, the word unfamiliar to Edward. 

Her arm moved behind her back, under the white coat, and only the flash of the Amestris' harsh lights on the steel of the gun warned Edward of the danger. 

He lunged forward with his akinakes, but she turned, dodging it, even as she brought the gun around to bear on him. 

But she'd misjudged either the sharpness of the side of his blade, or Edward's own footwork, because he managed to quickly recover from the miss and turned the lunge into a swing, putting enough strength behind it to sink into the side of her throat. 

She stumbled from the force of the hit, and Edward's blade came loose, freeing a spray of bright red blood. 

The gun went off, and the bullet cracked against the ceiling. 

Edward thought, for a moment, that she'd missed entirely, but then fire bloomed through his right upper arm, and he dropped his akinakes with a gasp, the blade clattering against the floor nearly in tandem with the gun and the woman. 

She gurgled something he wasn't certain he'd have understood even if Amestris was his native language, and when he glared down at her, wrapping his left hand around his right arm and hissing at the burn of pain, he found she was staring up at him with dying eyes, a wild smile twisting her lips. 

" _Fuck_!" Edward bit out; Roy was going to freak the fuck out when he found out he'd got shot. _Twice_. By the _same woman_.

"Ed, you idiot," he muttered to himself as he let go of his wound and quickly pressed his hands together, then clapped his left hand back to the wound. 

Alchemic light sparked, and Edward grit his teeth against the sensation of muscles and skin knitting back together. 

"You deserve every second of hovering," he informed himself, once the hole was healed. He considered healing the cut on his face for a moment, but it felt like it had already scabbed over, and he needed to find his way up to the top floor and figure out how to get those roof doors open before Roy lost his temper. (With any luck, he'd get distracted by soldiers out by the gate, or something.) 

He stooped to grab his akinakes, grimaced as newly-healed flesh and muscles flexed, and drew his gun with his left hand as he shoved his way back out of the room. 

The hallway was empty all through that floor, no one jumping out to try and stop him. 

At the top of the next flight of stairs was a pair of massive steel doors, and Edward grinned, suspecting he'd just reached the floor with the chimerae. A quick clap had the doors folding back from the middle, revealing a massive room divided by a wide path between two rows of floor-to-almost-ceiling cages, the bars far enough apart that a human could probably slip through them, but the chimera-dragons trapped within most certainly could not. 

All of the dragons appeared to have been huddled in the backs of their cages, but when Edward stepped into the room, some of them moved forward, looking curious. Most of them had the same sort of metallic colouring as Roy – although none of them were quite the same colour – but there were a couple whose colours were dull; a white one and a vivid crimson. 

**"I do not guess,"** he said, raising his voice to be heard by as many of them as possible, **"that any of you know how to open the doors?"** He pointed up with his akinakes, toward the long cut in the ceiling that he suspected marked the doors out. 

The dragons were all silent, a couple of them shifting uncertainly. 

Edward sighed, remembering what Roy had said about not being allowed to speak, and looked around at the space where there _weren't_ cages. There were machines on both sides, and he sighed again, then went to the left, holstering his gun as he reached the controls. Which he...couldn't makes heads or tails of. 

"I hate this country," he muttered to himself in his native language as he tried to decipher the notations written on a clipboard sat next to the the array of push buttons and other fiddly parts. "Why can't you people use alchemy and heat to power things, like we do? At least then I'd be able to figure all of this out." 

He gave up on that machine relatively quickly, walking across the room to the other one. Which looked...exactly the same. 

Edward kicked it and snarled insults about its creator in Xerxesian. 

The dragon nearest him – bronze, it looked like, with aqua markings like stripes along their neck and sides – let out a snort of pale smoke. 

**"You are utterly unhelpful,"** Edward informed them drily. 

The dragon snorted pale smoke again, a definite note of amusement in the sound. 

Edward flashed them an amused look, only for them to pull back a bit in what looked to be surprise, then shift so they could duck their head down, eyeing him through the bars. 

Edward tried a smile that he hoped was more welcoming than strained. **"Hello,"** he offered. **"I know you are not allowed to talk, but I would very much like to get that door open. Before Roy sets it on fire."**

The dragon huffed out a startled cloud of smoke, then asked in a voice that was both male and nearly as gravelly as Roy's, **"Roy? He's outside?"**

**"Yes,"** Edward promised. 

Before either of them could say anything further, one of the dragons further down the row shouted, **"Watch out!"**

Edward automatically crouched as he twisted to one side to try and spot the threat. The crouching probably saved his life, as the sound of guns going off rang through the room, and one of them skimmed the top of his hood, knocking it back. 

**"What,"** Edward snarled as he pushed off and ran toward the nearest cover, which was a flimsy-looking chair, **"is it with you Amestrisans and _shooting me_!?"** And he should probably learn to sheath his akinakes instead of holstering his gun when he needed a hand free, dammit. 

Without warning, a bolt of lightning shot toward the doorway, and the three soldiers there screamed as they were electrocuted. Edward traced the electricity back to its origin, and found the bronze dragon he'd just been speaking with closing its mouth to stop the attack. 

Edward squeezed his eyes shut and muttered, "Leave it to Amestrisan alchemists to not only defile _nature_ , but to disregard the stories about dragons breathing _fire_. I hate this country." 

He was going to make Roy take him to Drachma or Xing or _anywhere that wasn't Amestris_ , fuck. 

**"Are you okay?"** the bronze dragon called to him. 

Edward sighed and pushed himself to his feet, sheathing his akinakes and taking his gun back out as he returned to the machines. **"I am fine,"** he said tiredly as he checked his store of bullets. He had more than enough, for the moment, so he slid the magazine back into place with a click. **"Thank you,"** he added a bit belatedly. 

The bronze nodded toward the machine. **"I've never seen them open the doors, but I've seen them use the console before, and they never touch the yellow button on the top right."**

Edward considered the button, then shrugged and pushed it, because it was worth a shot. 

The room shuddered, then something let out a high-pitched whirring noise, and the ceiling started to open. 

Edward grinned at the bronze dragon, who replied by baring his teeth in what Edward was fairly certain was supposed to be a smile. 

As soon as the opening was wide enough to admit him, Roy dove in, wings flat against his back, before he opened them right before he would have crashed into the floor, easily touching down with his head held high. 

Edward rolled his eyes; show-off. 

"Roy!" the bronze who had been helping Edward called, while the dragon that had called out the warning – one of the gold ones, Edward saw now he wasn't otherwise distracted – called a relieved, **"Colonel!"**

Edward raised an eyebrow at that; he'd never asked about Roy's military career, far more focussed on plotting out their rescue mission. 

"Hughes," Roy said to the bronze, before looking over at the gold. **"Lieutenant. It's good to see you both looking so well."**

**"Unlike some,"** the bronze said flatly, pointing his snout toward where new scales were only just beginning to grow in on Roy's sides. 

**"That was his stupid idea,"** Edward commented. 

The bronze let out a snort of pale smoke, while Roy twisted to look at Edward. "Ed!" he said, relief in his gravelly voice, while he lowered his head toward the ground. But then his eyes narrowed and he gave a sniff. **"That's blood,"** he said, something dangerous in his voice. 

**"Most of it is not mine,"** Edward promised as he walked over to his dragon. 

**" _Most_ of it?"** Roy snarled, dark smoke curling out of his nostrils. 

Edward hit the top of his nose and scowled at the cross-eyed look he got. **"Stop being an idiot and let us free the others; I am tired of this country."**

Roy twisted his head to look at the red dragon, who was watching everything with a sort of air like he was just waiting for something to explode. **"Not _everyone_ ,"** he growled. 

**"Why, Flame, I'm _hurt_ ,"** the red dragon said, voice almost _silky_ , despite the hint of familiar gravel, and utterly impossible to gender. 

All the other dragons, save the white one, let out snorts, smoke drifting up toward the sky. 

" _Roy_ ," Edward snapped, putting all of the authority he had into his voice, and Roy turned back to him, raising his head defiantly. **"I want this building and all its vile research _destroyed_. That means everyone _out_."**

Roy glared at him for a moment, while Edward just stared up at him, unbending; for the sake of his people and his beliefs, he _could not_ let this building remain. 

Roy's head finally drooped and he muttered, **"I hope you don't regret this,"** before reaching past Edward and running one claw lightly over a row of push buttons. 

All of the cage doors opened, and the many dragons poked their heads out a bit uncertainly. 

**"Once everyone's in the air, fire on the building!"** Roy ordered. 

There came a surprisingly loud chorus of **"Yes, sir!"** s from the metallic dragons, then they all started taking off, while Roy held out a foreclaw to Edward. 

Edward holstered his gun, then let Roy lift him up to his usual spot behind his neck. Only once he was settled, hands fisted in Roy's frill, did Roy jump into the air, wings giving a couple strong beats to clear the roof door, heading up toward where the others were gathering. 

Half of the other metallic dragons had already started flying away, clearly uninterested in helping to destroy the building, but the gold and bronze dragons Roy had spoken to – Maes and Riza, clearly – and one of the two silvers remained, as had the white and red dragons, though they held themselves a bit apart. 

When Roy turned his fire on the building, the other three metallic dragons and the red all joined in, but the white just watched for a moment, before letting out a roar and flying straight at Roy. 

"Roy!" Edward shouted, because Roy was facing the wrong direction to see the white dragon. 

His warning wasn't enough, as the white dragon opened their mouth and let out a stream of ice at Roy's side. 

Roy roared in pain, twisting in mid-air in an attempt to avoid the attack, and Edward lost his grip on Roy's frill. He made a desperate grab for one of Roy's wings as he slid off to the side, but missed entirely. 

He was in freefall, staring up at where Roy was shooting fire at the white dragon, the bronze and gold dragons already turning to aid him. He couldn't tell if any of them had even realised he'd fallen, and Edward had one, terrible moment when he realised he was going to die, alone, in his least favourite country. 

And then he landed against scales, two red foreclaws carefully caging him between them as the red dragon twisted in mid-air, then shot up toward the fight, mouth opening wide above Edward. They didn't breathe any fire, though, just kept going until they could clamp their teeth into the white dragon's extended neck, shaking their head and spraying fat droplets of blood everywhere. 

Edward had to struggle a bit to find a dry corner of his cloak to wipe chimera-dragon blood out of his eyes, spitting out a mouthful as he did, only to snap, "What the _fuck_!" when he realised the red dragon was diving back down toward the building with its mouthful. 

They dropped the white dragon into the room of cages, then called, **"Little alchemist, if I draw an array to blow this building up, can you activate it?"**

**"Yes!"** Edward shouted back, because there weren't many arrays outside his skills, and he had little fear of external arrays. 

The red dragon hovered over the building and breathed out fire to scorch an array into the side of the building: A hexagram with the symbols for the sun and the moon inside. Opposing elements to create an instability into whatever it was activated against. 

Edward raised an eyebrow at that, intrigued, but he didn't bother asking, just reached out to touch the scorch marks when the red dragon flew him close enough. 

Below, someone was shouting an evacuation order, and Edward didn't bother suppressing a smirk at that as the red dragon flew them up into the air, well outside the radius of the explosion. 

"Kimblee!" Roy snarled as he and his two friends flew toward them, the last silver apparently having run off. 

Below them, the laboratory exploded, a wave of heat buffeting all of them. 

**"Just returning a favour, Flame,"** the red dragon said in a careless tone as they carefully loosened their claw cage around Edward, giving him plenty of time to step onto one claw and hold on for dear life. **"Your little alchemist freed me, I saved his life. Now we're even."**

That...sounded vaguely ominous. Lovely. 

Still, the red dragon didn't make any motions like he was going to drop Edward, just carefully raised his claw and flew up a bit, close enough to Roy that Edward could jump over onto his back. 

He immediately grabbed handfuls of the frill running down Roy's back, and used it to help him up to his usual spot behind Roy's neck. 

The red dragon inclined their head, then turned and flew off toward the west. 

**"Let's get out of here,"** the bronze dragon said. 

**"We need to pick up your family,"** Roy replied, and the bronze dragon – Maes, clearly, which made the gold dragon Riza; good to know – jerked back in mid-air, clearly surprised. **"They're with the madam."**

**"Dammit, Roy,"** Maes complained, but he sounded grateful; Roy evidentially had that effect on people. 

They turned toward the roof of the little pub, where a small party was awaiting them. Riza stopped off on another roof that was a little higher up, watching out, while Roy led Maes to where Gracia was standing in the middle of the roof, holding a child. 

Neither Maes nor Gracia seemed to know what to say, just stared at each other, Gracia looking uncertain. 

Roy sort of ruined the moment entirely by lighting up the roof with purple transmutation light. Edward had about half a second to widen his eyes in disbelief, before he fell through thin air and landed on the roof with a pained grunt, a little behind where Roy-the-human had reappeared. 

**"Roy, you _moron_!"** Edward shouted. 

That was about as far as he got before Roy twisted and half-crawled, half-tossed himself across the space between them. He cupped Edward's face between his hands as soon as he reached him and proceeded to kiss him hard. 

Edward couldn't really do anything but give in, pulling Roy into his lap so the idiot chimera wasn't stretching quite so awkwardly. 

**"Knew it~!"** Maes said, clearly going for a sort of sing-song voice and failing miserably. 

The little girl in Gracia's arm's giggled and shouted back, **"Knew it, too!"**

**"You did not,"** Maes insisted. 

Roy pulled back from the kiss, only to start running his fingers over Edward's face and hair, frowning at the bullet graze on his cheek. **"You're okay?"** he pleaded quietly, his dark eyes desperate. **"Kimblee didn't hurt you or anything, did he?"**

**"I am _fine_ , Roy,"** Edward insisted, catching Roy's wandering hands before the idiot decided he needed to start removing his clothing so he could check Edward over _everywhere_. **"But I am making a saddle, in case of any more sky battles."**

Roy let out a quiet, helpless laugh and rested his forehead against Edward's. **"Not a terrible plan. For everyone."**

Edward blinked at that, then looked past Roy at where the little girl was climbing onto Maes' snout, looking delighted. **"She looks a little young to be on the run,"** he pointed out. 

Roy somehow managed to free his right wrist from Edward's grip and gently brushed his fingers against the side of Edward's face. **"They'll have to go on the run either way,"** he murmured, sounding regretful. **"The military's going to want us back, and they won't shy away from using what's most precious to us to do it."**

Edward swallowed, didn't need to ask what was most precious to Roy. **"What about your aunt?"**

Roy's mouth curled with a fond smile. **"She's slippery, never you worry. She's already got a bag packed and will almost certainly be on her way out of town as soon as we take off."**

Edward considered that for a moment, then hesitantly offered, **"I can write a letter of introduction for her, to the Xerxesian court."**

Roy gave him a quick, hard kiss, then pulled back and murmured, **"Let's not go borrowing favours from your father quite yet; she has contacts in Aerugo and Xing who will take her in until she can set up something more permanent."**

Edward nodded, relieved that he wouldn't have to test his father's temperament after their sudden departure. Also, Roy's family would be okay. 

**"Colonel!"** Riza called in warning. 

**"Time to go,"** Roy murmured, and stole one last kiss before sliding off Edward's lap. 

Edward sighed, but pushed himself to his feet, then hurried over to the pile of their things, past where Maes was helping Gracia onto his back. Their little girl was already up there, calling down encouragements. 

"Ed," Chris called as Edward picked up the first bag in the pile and the roof lit with the purple light of Roy's transformation. He glanced over at her and found her holding out a hand. As he reached out and gripped it, she said, **"You protect my boy out there."**

**"I intend to,"** Edward promised. **"Keep yourself safe."**

She smirked. **"I'm not _that_ old yet,"** she said, before giving him a brief nod and stepping back. 

Edward nodded in return, then quickly grabbed the last of their bags and hurried back to Roy. 

Riza and Maes were both already in the air by the time Edward got back to his idiot dragon, and he huffed a bit, even as he climbed into the claw Roy held down to him. 

**"Where to?"** Maes shouted as Roy got airborne. 

**"Mountains!"** Ed insisted, because he'd been serious about seeing mountains. And, if they ended up high enough, they should have a good few months to help strengthen the chimerae's human bodies, so they could go places where they needed to be human, without needing to be carried everywhere. 

Roy rumbled a laugh and motioned toward the north with his head. 

All three dragons turned, Roy taking the lead, and they sped off, quickly leaving the dirty streets of Central City behind them. 

Somewhere off to his right, Edward could just make out the sound of a little girl shouting in delight, and he grinned into the wind, breathing in the taste of freedom.

.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Dragon's Gold](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13210500) by [RsCreighton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RsCreighton/pseuds/RsCreighton)




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